


Heretic Child

by Dragonstep



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Addiction, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anger, Anger Management, Angst, Angst and Feels, Bad Decisions, Betrayal, Bloodlust, Canon divergence later on in the story, Chantry Issues, Character Death, Character Development, Character of Faith, Couch Cuddles, Crisis of Faith, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dark, Denial, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, Everything Hurts, Exploring Relationships, F/F, F/M, Falling In Love, Feels, Flashbacks, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Framed, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Grief/Mourning, Having Faith, Heavy Angst, Heresy, Heretics, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Bad At Summaries, In-depth story, Innocent, Inquisitor has no clue whats going on, Intense, It Gets Worse, It's Hard and Nobody Understands, Long-Term Relationship(s), Loss of Faith, Love Triangles, Loyalty, Lyrium Addiction, Lyrium Withdrawal, Modern Girl in Thedas, Modern girl has never played the game, Non-Sexual relationships, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Cassandra Pentaghast, POV Cullen Rutherford, POV Multiple, Panic Attacks, Personal Growth, Plot Twists, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Questioning, Red Lyrium, Religious Conflict, Religious Guilt, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Running Away, Running from problems, Serious, Sexual Relationships, Sleepy Cuddles, Slow Burn, Sparring, Surprises, Sweet, This Is Not Going To Go The Way You Think, Till Death Do Us Part, Tragedy, Tragic Romance, Will go post-game, Worship, abrasive characters, different kinds of relationships, long story, makeout, romance is not the only theme
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-06-03 16:16:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 17
Words: 37,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19467568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragonstep/pseuds/Dragonstep
Summary: Torn out of the world she’d give her life for and thrown into one she knows nothing of, Cassidy Halloran wakes up in chains at the feet of Cassandra Pentaghast, accused of mass murder, but she manages to change the Seeker’s mind about her.Declared the Herald of Andraste, the Chantry is already against her, but there is still hope. Between the stoic Seeker and the stern Commander Cullen Rutherford, she’s got quite the team to help her succeed. Still, shadows lurk in the brightest of places, and their enemies were patient.Haunted by her own failures and visions of who she was, Cassidy will question everything she knows, and make some poor decisions. It happens to the best of us, but in her position, such choices can have unforeseen consequences. Her greatest enemy is not the one in front of her, but the hand she called friend pressing the knife to her back. When testing the bounds of loyalty, betrayal is a cruel mistress.Tasked with saving a world that is not her own, she will give everything she’s got, but will it be enough? She will change everything, whether they like it or not, but will she be their salvation, or will she make heretics out of them?





	1. Out of Her Element

**Author's Note:**

> "Let the blade pass through the flesh, let my blood touch the ground, let my cries touch their hearts. Let mine be the last sacrifice." (Chant of Light, Andraste 7:12)
> 
> Inspired by "Which Witch" by Florence and the Machine

Ears ringing, pain coursing through her veins, but at least it wasn’t hot. The sand, where was the sand? It was supposed to be hot. The smell of wet stone filled her nostrils and she became acutely aware of the discomfort of kneeling on it, but it was nothing compared to the pulse of agony that forced her eyes open. After her eyes adjusted, she realized she was in a dungeon, her hands shackled, with four guards standing around her, swords drawn and pointed at her.

Well, at least Cassidy wasn’t in Afghanistan anymore.

Shit, Afghanistan. Quickly, she looked down, leaning back. What the fuck was she wearing? This hideous green _thing_ was not her combat uniform, but it wasn’t bloody either, and her gut wasn’t full of shrapnel. She was in no immediate threat of death, then, but where was she? She looked up as the door to the dungeon swung open and a woman stormed in. There was something familiar about the cropped black hair, same style as Cassidy’s own strawberry blond locks, except Cassidy didn’t favour the braid.

Wait a second, she had seen this before. Her little brother had played a video game that looked like this. What was it called? Dragon something? The Spanish Inquisition? She had only stuck around to watch the first scene. This woman, her name was Cassandra. Was Cassidy dreaming? What was going on?

“Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you now.” Cassandra snarled, clearly displeased. Well, Cassidy was in no mood to play nice, but she would play along. If she was dreaming, she wasn’t too intent on making it a bad one. She opened her mouth to speak, but let out a cry of pain as whatever was causing the pain in her hand flared up. “Fuck!” She grunted, “What the hell is going on? What is this?”

Clearly, Cassandra did not like this response. Cassidy could barely understand what was being yelled in her face, her ears ringing. “Look,” she mumbled, “I’m telling you, I’ve got no fucking clue what’s going on. You’re not even supposed to be real, okay? I’ve got to be dreaming.” “You’re lying!” Cassandra lunged for her, but a second woman in a hood stopped her. “We need her, Cassandra!” Cassandra turned her back and sighed. “Go to the forward camp, Leliana. I will take her to the rift.”

Oh boy. That’s right, she was in the position of the main character of this video game. This was gonna be one hell of a dream.

This was about the point where Cassidy had kissed her brother’s head goodbye and left, so after this, she didn’t know what happened. She hoped it wouldn’t be one of those weird dreams where peoples’ knees turned backwards and spiders crawled out of their teeth. She shivered at the thought. Cassandra pulled her to her feet and replaced the shackles around her wrists with rope, then led her out into the cold.

Odd, she didn’t usually feel temperature in her dreams, but she certainly felt this.

Cassidy stared up at the massive swirling glowing hole in the sky. It was unlike anything she had ever seen. “What _is_ that?” She asked, astounded. “The Breach,” Cassandra answered. “The explosion at the Conclave triggered it.” “The Conclave?” Cassidy raised an eyebrow in question. “The war between the mages and Templars is out of hand. This Conclave was a meeting between them, in hopes of peace.” Cassidy nodded, “well, clearly that didn’t work.” Cassandra gave her a look of pure disgust. “So mages, that’s pretty self-explanatory,” Cassidy didn’t pay her look any mind, “but what are Templars?” Cassandra seemed surprised. “You don’t know?”

Cassidy didn’t get the chance to answer. A pulse raced out from the Breach, and her mark reacted, sending pain through her body in waves. She cried out and collapsed to the ground, cradling her hand to her chest. “Fuck! Pepper spray has nothing on this,” she growled, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. Cassandra knelt beside her. “With each pulse, the Breach grows, your mark spreads, and it is killing you.” Cassidy almost rolled her eyes. “Fantastic.” She let out a sigh. “Is there anything I can do to stop it? I don’t know shit about magic, but that definitely doesn’t look like a good thing,” she gestured towards the Breach. Cassandra, looking slightly pleased, nodded. “Perhaps there is. An apostate, Solas, believes that your mark might be able to close the Breach. Come, I will take you there.” She untied Cassidy’s hands.

They walked through the little village, and the people there were clearly not pleased to see Cassidy. Cassandra commented, “they have decided your guilt. They need it. They mourn the loss of our Divine, the Most Holy Divine Justinia. The Conclave was hers.” Cassidy kept her gaze focused forward. “Divine, so that’s like your Pope then?” Cassandra blinked, “what is a Pope?” Cassidy sighed, “alright, so I’m just gonna say it, I’m not from this world. All of this,” she gestured around, “is foreign to me. You’re gonna have to explain things pretty in depth if you want me to understand. As for what happened with this mark on my hand, I don’t remember a thing. The first thing I know of being here is waking up in that dungeon.”

Cassandra nodded slowly, but she seemed to believe Cassidy. “Alright. I will explain along the way. The first thing you must know is that after the explosion, you stepped out of a rift from the Fade. The Fade is the world of spirits and dreams, and the source of magic.” As they jogged through the valley, Cassandra explained about the Chantry, what a Templar was, how mages worked, and who she was, a former Seeker and hand of the Divine.

Their conversation was interrupted by something flying out of the rift and landing not too far from them. A dark, twisted thing crawled from the crater in the ice. “Demons!” Cassandra shouted. “Stay back!” She drew her sword and went after it.

The ice in front of Cassidy began to bubble. She looked around for something, anything, to hit it with, and spotted a sword and shield lying next to a broken cart. She dove for them, strapping the shield to her arm. The sword was a bit awkward in her hand. She wished she had a gun. Still, it would have to do. The demon came crawling after her. She brought the sword down like a baseball bat, not really bothering to try and hit it with the sharp sides, and kept beating it until it died.

“Drop your weapon!” Cassandra snarled, her sword now pointed towards Cassidy. Cassidy rolled her eyes, was she serious? “Alright, alright, but do a better job of keeping the demons away. I’m not too intent on being eaten, or whatever it is they do.” She held out her sword, but Cassandra sighed and shook her head. “No, keep it. You are right. I cannot protect you, and I cannot expect you to be defenseless.” Cassidy, relieved, held onto the sword.

They made their way through the valley, fighting various demons; Cassidy was rather clumsy with the sword and shield. Her combat training had never involved them. It was marksmanship and hand-to-hand combat. This whole medieval sword thing was difficult. The shield was helpful, especially when the demons were twice her height and bashing down on her.

“Is there fighting up ahead?” Cassidy asked, hearing the sounds of a scuffle. “Yes,” Cassandra broke into a run. “We must help them!” Cassidy was growing tired of the awkward mercenary garb she was dressed in, and the boots were horrible! She missed her combat boots. Still, she soldiered on, running after Cassandra, leaping into the fray.

Seeing a rift up close was a startling experience. It was green mass of sheets of light folding in on itself with demons crawling out of it, some of them being dragged out of it, and her hand seemed to pull her towards it; she didn’t like it one bit. She fought off the demons swarming a very short, stout man firing a crossbow. Then someone grabbed her wrist, “quickly, before more come through!” She made eye contact with a thin man with pointed ears. He thrust her hand towards the rift.

She felt as if she were playing a violent game of tug of war. Finally, with one last pull, the rift closed, and she stumbled back. “What the FUCK?” This kept getting weirder and weirder. “How did you do that?” She asked the man. Elf? He looked like an elf; she had seen Lord of the Rings. She loved Orlando Bloom. He had wonderful cheekbones. She admired this elf’s cheekbones. He smiled, “I did nothing. The credit is yours.” “You mean this,” she looked down at her hand. “I theorized the mark would be able to close the rifts,” the elf said, “and I was correct. It seems you hold the key to our salvation.”

Fuckin great.

“And here I thought we’d be ass-deep in demons forever.” The short one said, adjusting his gloves, his crossbow strapped to his back. He only came up to Cassidy’s ribs, if that. Was he a dwarf? This was a fantasy world, perhaps it had dwarves. That made sense, as he didn’t quite look like just a midget, but he didn’t have a majestic beard.

“Varric Tethras,” he introduced himself. “Rogue, storyteller, and occasionally, unwelcome tagalong.” He winked at Cassandra, who grunted in disgust. Cassidy held out her hand, “Cassidy Halloran. Soldier, boxer, and very lost in the wrong world.” Varric laughed and shook her hand, “that sounds like an interesting story.”

“My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions,” the elf introduced himself. “I’m pleased to see you still live.” “He means,” Varric added, “I kept that mark from killing you while you slept.” Cassidy turned to Solas, a smile on her face. “Thanks then. I owe you one. So, how do we seal that big thing up there?”

“We get to it first,” Varric stated. “Oh no, you are not coming! Your help is appreciated, Varric, but-“ Varric cut Cassandra off mid-sentence, “have you been in the valley recently, Seeker? Your men aren’t in control anymore. You need me.” Cassandra scowled, but didn’t press the issue further.

“Well, Bianca’s excited.” Varric gestured to the crossbow on his back. Cassidy grinned a bit at that. Lots of men named their weapons. When she was a kid, she had named her first revolver Darlene. She followed the three over a rock and down into the frozen riverbed, since the road was blocked. They’d have to rough it through the valley.

“You said you were lost in the wrong world?” Solas questioned in between fights with demons. Cassidy nodded, rolling out her shoulder. She was not liking this sword. It was awkward, especially in one hand. “Yeah. I don’t remember anything about this one before waking up in the dungeon. Before that, I was in a very different place.” Solas looked thoughtful, “how unusual. If true, this presents so many possibilities I had never even imagined.”

They made it to a set of gates with a rift in front of it. Cassidy was exhausted by the time that battle was finished, and closing the rift sapped a lot of her energy. She was bleeding a bit from several small wounds. Cassandra handed her a small glass vial with a thick red liquid in it. “Here, drink this. It will restore your energy and heal some minor wounds.” Cassidy took it, swirling it around a bit. “Oh boy, drugs.” She popped the cork off and downed it. It wasn’t too bad, and did certainly make her feel much better. That, and Cassandra was right. Most of her minor wounds stitched themselves together.

Long story short, Cassidy had little patience for Chancellor Roderick, and pretty much ignored him when Cassandra made it clear that his opinion didn’t matter. “Charge with the men,” Cassidy said. “We don’t have much time, and getting lost in the mountains isn’t a good option. We shouldn’t waste any more lives.” Cassandra nodded approvingly, and they prepared to head out.

They made it down to the valley just below the Temple of Sacred Ashes, where a ferocious battle was being waged. Men were charging in, men were running away, men were crawling a way, and in it all, Cassidy felt an uneasy sense of familiarity. She gripped her sword and rushed right in. She would not let this go on longer than it had to.

She rushed past men facing down demons three times their size. As much as her heart ached to stop and help each of them, she knew better. They would only be replaced with more. She saw a man ahead being swarmed with multiple, just below a rift. “How many rifts are there?” Varric shouted over the fray. “We must seal it if we are to get past!” Solas called out. Cassidy nodded, and leapt into battle. Though she was tired and clumsy, she had the advantage of the initial blow to the back of the first demon, and took it out with relative ease.

The man she fought beside was clearly no stranger to battle, and they fell into a rhythm of fighting back to back while Solas and Varric picked off the demons from the outside. Cassandra was fighting a little further back, trying to spare some of the soldiers from gruesome fates. It was a long battle, and just when they thought they had defeated all the demons, more came through. Finally, Cassidy had a long enough moment to seal the rift. She fell to one knee, taking a few deep breaths.

“Sealed, as before,” Solas approached. “You are becoming quite proficient at this.” “Let’s hope it works on the big one,” Varric commented lightheartedly.

“Cassandra, you managed to close the rift? Well done.” The man Cassidy had been fighting with spoke to Cassandra, who shook her head. “Do not congratulate me, Commander. This is the prisoner’s doing.” Commander? Cassidy resisted the urge to salute. They probably didn’t do that here, not like she did anyway.

“Is it?” The Commander turned to her. He was ruggedly handsome, with slicked back blonde hair and stubble across his face, but his golden eyes were edged with exhaustion. “I hope they’re right about you,” he said. “We’ve lost a lot of people getting you here.” Ouch. Cassidy deflected the sting of his comment the same way she always did, humor. “Pal, you and me both.” “We’ll see soon enough, wont we?” He clearly wasn’t in the mood for humor. He turned back to Cassandra. “The way to the Temple should be clear. Leliana will try to meet you there.”

“Then we’d best move quickly,” Cassandra stated. “Give us time, Commander.” It was a grim request. The Commander glanced at Cassidy once more. “Maker watch over you, for all our sakes.” He then left, going to help a wounded soldier off the field.

Cassidy felt the weight of their expectations then. They were heavy.

They made a run for the Temple, climbing over the charred rubble. There was something vaguely familiar about it. The bodies, forever burned into their last expressions of terror, shook Cassidy to the core. “Huh, I wonder if this is what the Fat Man looked like,” she muttered to herself, trying to shake the fear clinging to her. “Pardon?” Cassandra asked. Cassidy shook her head, “nothing. Something similar to this happened in my world, but it was a long time ago, before I was born, and it was much more destructive. It didn’t tear a magic hole in the sky, and no demons came out, but there were other consequences.”

“Did they find who did it?” Cassandra asked. Cassidy laughed a bit, “oh, my country did it intentionally, and we did it twice. Whatever it takes to get an unconditional surrender, right?” Cassandra looked horrified. Cassidy shook her head, “that was when the whole world was at war, and at that point, it just needed to end. It was terrible, yeah, but necessary. Besides, it’s not like we were unprovoked. They bombed us first.”

“I think we should change the subject,” even Varric looked a little uneasy. Cassidy nodded, swallowing. Her mouth felt dry. They entered the Temple. Making their way down, they heard voices, echoing what had happened there. Cassidy heard her own voice, and a woman calling out to her. There was this red glowing stone growing out of the walls, and it hummed. Varric called it red lyrium.

They made it to the bottom. “Most Holy called out to you,” Cassandra was bewildered. So was Cassidy. “I met your Pope?” She let out a breath. “Well hopefully that proves my innocence. Any ideas on how to get me up there?” She pointed to the Breach. Solas shook his head, “you shouldn’t have to. This rift here is the largest, and the first. Seal it, and we might seal the Breach.” Cassidy nodded, “let’s do it.”

“You’ll have to open it to seal it properly. Doing so will likely draw attention from the other side,” Solas calmly explained. Cassandra called out to the scouts posted around the Temple, “that means demons! Stand ready!” Cassidy wiggled her fingers, and opened her palm to the rift. It opened, and out came this massive _thing_. “Shit,” Cassidy muttered. She readied her sword. “Get fucked!” She shouted, charging the thing. She was just about done with this whole damn day.

This demon did not go down easy. Cassidy would have killed for a hand grenade. She bashed and battered at the beast, rolling out of the way of its electric whip, and going for its ankles. She found that taking a moment to weaken the rift also weakened the demon's defenses.

The demon hit her hard, its massive talons striking her shield and knocking her flat on her back. Winded though she was, she got back up, but she had lost track of her sword, so her fist would have to do. Fortunately, she was wearing gauntlets. She knew that the thing’s hide was stronger than the metal her gauntlets were made of, but her sword had already created a gash in the back of its leg. She came up behind it and drove her fingers in, gripping, and pulling down. It let out a roar of pain. “Yeah, how do you like that, you ugly bastard?!” She growled, spitting as its blood sprayed on her. It kicked at her, but she rolled away. She ran back, lifted her shield, and drove the point into the back of its knee. It howled and fell to its knees, growling and swiping at those attacking it from the front.

“A sword, somebody!” Cassidy shouted, her voice booming over the noise. The Army sure had taught her how to use her voice. She caught a knife thrown to her by a scout on the ledge. It would do. She climbed up onto the beast’s back, abandoning the shield when it hindered her grip. The skin was covered in plenty of horns and ridges, so she didn’t have a hard time. She made it to the thing’s head just as it stood again. She began driving the knife into its eyes, one by one, swearing delightfully the whole time, adrenaline coursing through her veins. Finally, it fell, still breathing, but mostly dead. She grunted as she fell with it, jarred. She took that opportunity to close the rift.

She blacked out after that, but she blacked out grinning. “Take that, you son of a bitch.”


	2. Differing Methods

Cassandra was jolted out of her sleep by sudden movement to her right, where Cassidy lay in a coma. She shot up, her hand going for her sword, surprised to find Solas sitting calmly in front of her, facing the bed, his books resting on the bed as he read them. Cassidy was mumbling, and the sound that had woken Cassandra had been her hand hitting the far wall as she flung it out. It was the middle of the night, and the fire in the hearth bathed the room in a soft glow.

“Solas? Why didn’t you wake me?” Cassandra mentally chastised herself for falling asleep when she was supposed to be watching over Cassidy in case she woke. Though she no longer considered Cassidy a prisoner, in fact, many were calling her a hero, she still needed to be guarded in case any tried to attack her, or she woke in pain or danger of dying. Solas looked up. “Forgive me, Seeker, you do not get enough rest as it is. I could not bring myself to disturb you.”

Cassandra rubbed her face, grunting. She looked over and tried to make out what Cassidy was muttering. “The sword, no, it doesn’t fit. Where’s my gun? Who took it? Can’t fight demons with a gun, they don’t speak gun. Don't got a gun. He’s got magic. Flashbang would send them reeling. Can’t use that. Don’t have them. Daddy? Where are you? Why’s it cold here, where’s the sand? The tank’s gone. Captain’s gonna kill me. Soldiers scream the same here. Siggardson, you son of a gun, why didn’t you crawl out too? The tank’s in pieces, you gotta get out. The shrapnel. It’s gone, the sand’s gone, this stone is cold. Mama, the horses here are bigger. No mosquitos, no malaria, they die of tetanus here. They don’t know it. Got the promotion. Staff Sergeant Halloran. I’ll take magic over artillery any day. We burn the same either way. Quick zap, quick freeze, better than gas. Better than boom. Shrapnel. Where’d it go?”

It sounded like nonsense to Cassandra. “What is she saying? Is she waking up?” Cassandra asked Solas. He shook his head. “I believe what she says is true, that she is from another world. Her mind is trying to separate the memories of that world and this one. It is no easy task.” Cassandra nodded. It would certainly explain Leliana’s frustration with not being able to find anything about her. “And what about the Breach? Why isn’t it closed?” Solas answered confidently, “it has stopped growing, at least. A second attempt will likely close it, provided the mark is given more power. But we cannot do that now. She must wake first.”

Cassandra leaned back in her chair, yawning into her hand. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone fight like that.” Solas laughed softly, “it was certainly a sight, a woman climbing a demon, swearing colourfully the whole time with a smile on her face.” Cassandra let herself smile. “She’s terrible with a sword, but she is clearly no stranger to combat. It was… oh, how to describe it? Varric is better at these things. It was very raw, ferocious, and animalistic. She’s got that fire. Perhaps when she wakes, if she chooses to stay, I will teach her to properly use a sword and shield. I would need Cullen’s help, of course, I do not teach.” She turned her head to look at the slumbering woman, whose face was scrunched up as if she were having a nightmare. “I wonder what sort of world she comes from.”

Cassidy shot upright, startling Solas and Cassandra both. Her eyes were wide open, her hands gripped the sheets. “Don’t you touch him,” she whispered. “I’ll slit your throat.” She laid back down slowly, her eyes fluttering shut, and she was asleep, mumbling incoherently to herself. Solas and Cassandra exchanged disturbed glances. “Apparently, not a pretty one,” Solas commented quietly. “She talks off and on. I haven’t gathered much. It’s mostly rambling. She grew up on a farm, and she is an experienced soldier.”

“It would seem that she is just what we need.” Cassandra stood. “Since you are here, I will go and get some proper rest.” Solas nodded. “Have a pleasant night, Seeker.” “You as well, Solas.” Cassandra left the room, wondering about the strange woman from another world.

* * *

Cullen stood in the war room, itching to get back to work, but this meeting was important. It was the first formal meeting of all the advisors, Cassandra, and the “Herald of Andraste,” as they were calling her, since the official declaration of the Inquisition. A week had passed since the Breach had stopped growing and spewing out demons, and four days since Cassandra had declared the Inquisition reborn. In those four days, much work had been done to set the Inquisition on a firm foundation, and they were finally ready to start moving forward.

Cassandra and the Herald entered the war room, the last to arrive. “I apologize for our tardiness,” Cassandra began, “we got caught up with the Quartermaster. But we are here now. Cassidy Halloran, this is Josephine Montiliyet, our ambassador.” “How do you do, Miss Halloran,” Josephine greeted her. “Please, just Halloran is fine. No need for the Miss. A pleasure to meet you, Lady Montiliyet.” The Herald, or Halloran as she wanted to be called, seemed to find the words a bit awkward. Cassandra continued, “and you’ve met Leliana, our spymaster.” Leliana gave her a brief nod, which she returned. “And the Commander of our forces, Cullen Rutherford.” “Such as they are,” Cullen sighed. “We lost many soldiers in the valley, and I fear many more before this is through.” Their loss still weighed heavy on him.

“We will make sure their sacrifice is not in vain, Commander,” Halloran’s expression was serious, and he remembered Cassandra saying she was a soldier of considerable experience. He gave her a brief nod.

Cassandra cleared her throat. “I mentioned that your mark needs more power to close the Breach for good.” Leliana added, “which means we must approach the rebel mages for help.” Cullen frowned, “I still disagree. The Templars could serve just as well.” Cassandra sighed. “We need power, Commander. Enough magic poured into that mark-“ he cut her off. “Might destroy us all. Templars could suppress the Breach.” “Pure speculation.” Leliana stated almost spitefully. Cullen found himself rather frustrated. “I was a Templar. I know what they’re capable of.”

Josephine broke the tension. “Unfortunately, neither group will even speak to us yet. The Chantry has denounced the Inquisition, and you specifically.” She gestured to Halloran, who snorted, seeming more amused than anything. “That didn’t take long.” Cullen rubbed crossed his arms. “Shouldn’t they be busy arguing over who’s going to be the next Divine?”

Josephine explained, “some people are calling you the Herald of Andraste, and this frightens the Chantry. They are calling it blasphemy, and us Heretics for harboring you.” Halloran blinked. “I’m sorry, Andraste? I thought you called your god the Maker.” Cullen was rather taken aback. “You don’t know who Andraste is?” Cassandra explained, “she doesn’t know anything about our world, Commander. Andraste is the bride of the Maker, a prophet who walked among us and fought against the Tevinter Imperium.” Josephine clicked her tongue. “We will have to educate you on such things. I will set up daily lesson times.” Halloran groaned, “delightful.” Cullen smiled slightly, he remembered the days when he was first starting his Templar training and he had to spend hours memorizing the Chant of Light. That was before he found peace in it, and he found it rather loathsome then.

“People are desperate for a sign of hope,” Leliana said. “For many, you are that sign. The Chantry doesn’t like this.” Halloran rolled her eyes, “they’re not concerned about the giant hole in the sky?” Cullen almost laughed. “They are, they just don’t think we can stop it.” Josephine added, “they’re telling everyone you’ll just make it worse.”

Leliana stepped closer to the table. “We may be able to do something about this. A Chantry cleric by the name of Mother Giselle has asked to speak with you. She is not far, and knows those involved far better than I. Her assistance could be invaluable. You’ll find her tending to the wounded in the Hinterlands near Redcliffe.”

“Look for other opportunities to extend our influence while you’re there,” Cullen added. Josephine nodded in agreement. “We need to reach beyond this valley, and you’re better suited than anyone to do it.” Cassandra stated, “in the meantime, let’s think of other options. I won’t leave this all up to the Herald, and we won’t leave for another week. First, I want to do a little training with her, and Josephine, you can do some of your lessons as well. Commander Cullen, I am no teacher, would you be willing to set aside some time to train her with me?” Cullen nodded, remembering her clumsiness with the sword and shield. He wondered what kind of weapons she was used to. “Of course. We can get started now, if you like.” Josephine said, “I will see you this evening after supper, Halloran.”

Cullen headed towards the training yard with Cassandra and Halloran. Harritt had made the Herald armor that fit her, and had the Inquisition’s symbol emblazoned on the front. It certainly set her aside from a common soldier, and would protect her better than the mercenary coat she had shown up in. “Remember, Cassidy,” Cassandra was saying, “your sword is just an extension of your arm.”

They reached the training yard. Cullen handed Halloran a training sword and shield. “Here you are.” “Thank you, Commander.” She smiled. “Oh, please, Cullen is fine.” She looked a little confused. He raised an eyebrow, “is something wrong, Halloran?” She asked, “does your military not call each other by their surnames?” Cullen shook his head, “No, only the nobility do that. Why would we do that? We are serving as ourselves, not our family. Is that what they do in your world?” He was still having a hard time grasping that she wasn’t from Thedas. It was odd, but magic was strange and volatile. “Yes,” she stated. “But this isn’t my world. If that’s the case, Cullen, call me Cassidy.”

It was late morning when they started, and they trained well into late afternoon, practicing strikes on the training dummies, trying to commit them to muscle memory. Cassandra did most of it while Cullen trained the new recruits, though he did step in when Cassidy was having a hard time getting what Cassandra was trying to explain. Still, Cassidy was a quick learner, and though she was far from battle-ready, she was catching on quickly. Cullen was impressed.

However, Cassandra was not. It was clear that by late afternoon, Cassandra was getting irritated. “No, you have to keep that grip through the swing or you won’t be able to have a proper grip for the next blow!” Cassidy remained silent and tried the blow again, and again, Cassandra shouted at her. Cullen thought she was being a little harsh, but Cassidy didn’t seem to be phased. She just seemed frustrated that she wasn’t getting it.

Cullen approached. “Here, let me show you.” He showed her on his own sword in a slower motion. “It helps if you keep your thumb here, and it’ll be easier when you have your own sword that gets molded to your grip. Try it again.” Cassandra grunted, “what kind of soldier doesn’t know how to use a sword?”

Cassidy let out a huff. “In my world, we stopped using swords four centuries ago. It takes more than a day to learn, Cassandra. Did you learn in a day?” Cassandra crossed her arms. “We don’t have the luxury of time. You have a week to be fighting proficiently. We will be going up against both mages and Templars. Do you think you can fight them with excuses?” Cullen could see the tension building between them. “Perhaps a break is in order,” he tried to intercede, but they ignored him.

“I don’t plan to, but I would like you to stop blaming me for your inability to teach. You cannot show me once and expect me to get it on the first try. I’m no savant at swordplay, Seeker.” Cassidy snarled. Cassandra huffed, “what can you do then? When a Templar knocks your sword out of your hand because your grip is terrible, what will you do?”

Cassidy tossed her sword aside. “Going unarmed against someone with a non-projectile weapon? That, I do have training for. Would you like a demonstration?” Cullen gulped and took a few steps back as Cassandra raised her sword. Even though it was blunted, it would still leave a nasty wound if Cassandra let her anger get the best of her. That, and the recruits were watching at this point. If the Herald was struck down by her first supporter, what would they think? “Cassandra, I really don’t-“ “Oh no, Commander, please, I’d like to end this training in my comfort zone.” Cassidy didn’t look at him as she spoke, but from the side he could see the fire blazing in her dark green eyes. Maker, preserve him, they were going to fight.

“Some lessons have to be taught the hard way,” Cassandra growled, and swung at Cassidy from the side. In Cullen’s mind, unarmed, he would have jumped back, and he expected Cassidy to do the same. He was thoroughly surprised when she stepped forward, out of range of the sword’s arch, only inches away from Cassandra’s face. Her right arm crossed in front of her to grab Cassandra’s sword wrist, and she dropped her hips, lowering her torso. It happened so fast, Cullen barely registered her gripping the sword with her left before driving her shoulder into Cassandra’s ribs, twisting her body, and pulling on Cassandra’s arm, effectively tossing the slightly taller Seeker on her back into the dirt on the other side. Cassidy was quickly in position with Cassandra’s sword, ready to swing down with it, but she stopped there.

“That’s what I would do, Seeker. Don’t assume that I can’t fight at all, just because I don’t know how to handle a sword. I’ve been training in hand-to-hand combat since I was five. I know how to tell when someone’s going to swing at me, and I know how to stop them from doing it. I don’t need a sword for that.” Cassidy wiped the anger from her face. Cassandra looked absolutely stunned. Cassidy offered her a hand and pulled her to her feet. The Herald had a slight smile on her face. “You were right. You are no teacher, though I do value your expertise. Perhaps just pointers, and I will pester the Commander to teach me when he has time?” Cassandra nodded, her stoic expression back on her face. “I think that is wise, and I apologize. I did not mean to insinuate that you were helpless.” Cassidy held out her hand. Cassandra shook it.

Cullen was astonished. He soon noticed that his recruits were too. “Get back to training! None of you know how to do that, so I don’t want to see you standing about gawking! You there, pick up your shield! Block with it!”

He’d have to keep an eye on that one. Anyone who could just toss Cassandra and live warranted a certain level of awareness, that was for sure.


	3. Early Comforts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: So I’m super excited for this story, I think this is the first one I’ve actually planned out in advance, and it’s gonna be interesting. I’ve been wanting to do something with Cassandra for a while now, and I think this is going to be a great way to explore her character. But for now, a bit of pre-romance Cullen fluff! Enjoy!

Cassidy took a deep breath as she buried her face in the mane of the horse, her right hand scratching at the old mare’s withers, just above her shoulder. The smell was comforting to her. The horse nickered softly, only raising her head briefly before returning to munching the pile of hay in the stall. Cassidy felt more than saw the mare’s hoof shift back, since the stall was dark, and moved her own foot out of the way. It wasn’t even dawn yet. She had no clock, but Cassidy suspected it was probably about four in the morning.

Cassidy was used to being up early, so she wasn’t really tired, but she was awake because of the nightmares. She had left her own world in a violent manner. She had been part of an Armored Cavalry unit, and had been riding in a convoy of tanks when they had been targeted by artillery fire out of nowhere. Last thing she remembered, she was dragging herself away from her destroyed tank, her gut full of shrapnel, listening to the screams of her best friend as he burned.

She clenched her jaw and drove the memory away. It didn’t matter now. Somehow she was stuck in this world. She had come to accept that it wasn’t a dream. It was far too real. She wrapped her arms around the horse’s neck, taking a long, slow, shaky breath. She struggled to compose herself. She was failing.

“Is someone there?” Shit. She heard heavy footsteps coming through the stables, their plow-horses-turned-war-mounts snorting their greetings at whomever it was. She heard a soft sigh, and light streamed down the hallway from a lantern, stabilizing as it was hung on a hook. “Easy boy,” the man murmured, and a horse nickered in response. Cassidy recognized the voice, but she couldn’t quite place it. She would just ask, but at this point, she had been hiding too long to just reveal herself. So she remained silent, running her hand down the mare’s back and back up again.

“That’s a good boy. Here’s a sugar cube. Don’t tell Cassandra. She thinks I spoil you.” Though the soft voice was vastly different from the commanding tone she was used to hearing, Cassidy realized that the man was Cullen. He was talking to a horse at four in the morning! Then again, so was she. She rested her cheek on the mare’s neck and continued to listen.

“Speaking of Cassandra, you should have seen it. They got into a fight yesterday. Cassidy just flipped Cassandra over and into the dust like it was nothing. It was quite impressive, Maximillian.” Cassidy smiled to herself. She had felt bad for embarrassing Cassandra, and ended up leaving a plate of cakes from the tavern at her door as an apology at Josephine’s suggestion, but she was certainly pleased with herself, though her back did still ache from the effort of tossing Cassandra and her armor. She was glad it had looked as good as it had felt at the time.

“Cassandra was impressed, too. Apparently Cassidy left some cake as an apology, and according to Leliana, Cassandra actually smiled. An actual smile, hidden behind her hand and everything.” Cassidy grinned, Cassandra had liked the cakes? Her heart felt warm. She was glad. She didn’t want any hard feelings between them. “Oh, hey, that’s my sleeve, don’t eat that! Maximillian, cease this madness! You can't eat cloth, you silly horse!”

Cassidy snorted before she could stop herself. She heard Cullen jump, startled. “Hello? Who’s there?” Damn, she had been caught. She considered hiding behind the mare, but that would only be more embarrassing. “I’m not eavesdropping, I promise I was here first,” she called out, still grinning, and left the warm side of the horse, leaning over the stall door to peer down the hall, squinting against the light of the lantern.

“Cassidy? Maker’s breath, you scared me!” Cullen laughed at himself. “Let me guess, you couldn’t sleep either.” She opened the stall and let herself out, closing it behind her. “You got me,” she said. “I’m used to being up early anyway. What’s got you awake? I can’t imagine an early chat with Maximillian is a daily occurrence.” His face fell a bit, and she quickly added, “you don’t have to tell me.”

“No, it’s fine.” He sighed softly, stroking the horse’s nose. Maximillian was probably the one decent warhorse the inquisition had, a good sized chestnut stallion. From what Cassidy understood, Cassandra and Cullen shared him.

“Lyrium withdrawal,” Cullen explained. “Insomnia is one of the early symptoms.” Cassidy nodded slowly, chewing on her lip for a moment. Cullen chuckled, “you have no idea what lyrium is.” Cassidy shook her head. “There was the red lyrium in the temple, but from what Varric said, that stuff wasn’t normal.” “No,” Cullen shuddered visibly, “it certainly isn’t. Lyrium is a sort of liquid mineral mined by the dwarves, who are resistant to it. It can give mages more power, or in my case, it boosts a Templar’s abilities. The Chantry controls the lyrium trade on the surface. It’s addictive, and in the end, most Templars end up going mad. I’ve decided to quit. No one’s ever done it successfully, but I’m going to try.”

“That’s admirable,” Cassidy gave him what she hoped was an encouraging smile. He gave her a half smile that made her heart melt. His hair was tousled from sleep, and he was scruffier than normal. She noticed the scar on his lip. Instead of his armor, he wore a simple shirt and trousers with his fur boots. His shoulders really were that broad? Incredible. In the lowlight of the lantern, he was certainly dreamy.

Cassidy averted her gaze, her cheeks heated. She focused her attention on the horse, leaning her face forward and putting her nose to his. He huffed, and she blew gently into his nostril. Cullen asked, “what are you doing?” “I’m greeting him. This is how horses greet another horse they don’t know. It’s a good way to make friends.” She brought her hand up to tickle the horse’s muzzle gently. He snorted and nudged her. “I grew up on a farm,” she explained. “I’d say I’m pretty good with horses.” She reached up and scratched Maximillian between the ears. He clearly liked it and lowered his head for more, his nose wiggling. “What a good boy,” she cooed. “I think he likes you,” Cullen commented, a warm smile on his face. “I like him too,” she placed a kiss on the horse’s face. “I bet you like all warm and fuzzy creatures,” he teased, reaching around her to pet Maximillian’s neck.

Unfazed by his proximity, she laughed a bit. “Oh no, there was this one horse when I was fifteen or so, a chestnut mare; they’re the worst, and this one was the bitchiest of bitches. Her name was Chelsea. She was a nightmare! Oh we hated each other. I had to ride her to help Daddy bring the cattle in, and he even made me ride her for a show once, to try and force us to bond, and it was a struggle every time. Finally, Mama recruited her for the force, since she wasn’t afraid of anything. She loooooved Officer Graham though, so I guess we both ended up happy.” Cullen tilted his head a bit, “the force?” Cassidy sucked in her cheeks thoughtfully, “the police force. Like a city guard, I guess would be the equivalent. Mama’s a mounted officer. The city was about an hour away from us.” Cullen nodded in understanding.

Dawn was starting to stretch her pale purple fingers over the horizon by then. Cullen stretched his arms over his head. “Why don’t we go get some breakfast?” He offered. “Rations aren’t great, but we can’t train on an empty stomach.” Cassidy nodded, her stomach rumbling at the thought. She had no qualms with rations. Couldn’t be any worse than what the Army fed her.

They sat by a fire near the Quartermaster’s tent and ate some cold oatmeal and apples. Cassidy just ate hers as quickly as possible. She wasn’t a fan of oatmeal; the texture made her gag, but it was something to fill her belly. She managed to finish it and enjoyed the apple a bit more. Cullen took a bit more time with his meal, his breath forming clouds in the frigid air.

“Go get your armor,” he said when he finished. “I’ll meet you down by the training yard.”

* * *

Cullen took a different approach to teaching Cassidy that day. Instead of battering a dummy, he jumped right into sparring with her, correcting her on the go. Since she had the basics of combat, and merely needed to work on weapon specifics, he figured he would try teaching her with trial and error. So far, it was working. It was early afternoon, the sun high overhead, and they were both sweating, having been going strong since they started that morning.

She had endurance, he’d give her that.

She also had indeed learned from Cassandra’s lessons, he could see that clearly. Her grip was a lot better than it had been, and though her strikes still needed some work, they weren’t nearly as sloppy as they used to be. For one thing, she wasn’t hitting with the blunt side of the sword anymore.

Her shield work was getting better too, and Cullen liked the way she used it as a weapon as well. In that moment, he could see her bringing it in front of her, probably for a shield bash. She had done it a few times already, and though she was on the smaller side, she was strong, and sent him stepping back a few paces if she hit him squarely.

He braced himself for the shield bash, then shouted in surprise when she dropped down and swung out her leg, kicking his feet right out from under him. “Hey!” He grunted, looking up at her. She was grinning. “Come on, Cullen, you should know better than to fall for a fake out.” He leaned his head to the side. “Who is teaching who, here? When you can block my sword with yours without stepping back, we’ll talk about my predictive work.” She pulled him to his feet.

“Good to see I am not the only one being knocked on my rear.” Cassandra leaned on a length of fencing, watching them spar. “You’re getting better with the shield.” She commented, and for a brief moment, Cullen thought she might have smiled, but it was gone too quickly for him to tell. He also noticed Cassidy puffing out her chest a bit when Cassandra complimented her. He’d never teach her anything in that state, and decided to knock her down a few pegs.

“Cassidy, pay attention. Are you ready?” His eyes flashed, and he was barraging her with blows. She did her best to keep up, but it was clear that she was not used to the weight of a sword and shield slowing down her arms so much, and he soon spotted his opening. He started to bring his sword down, and when he saw her shield slacken when her sword arm came up to meet him, he ceased the blow and hit her with the full force of his shield bash. She went flying back, not braced at all. He couldn’t help but to smirk. “You should know better than to fall for a fake out.”

“Oh you’re an _ass_ ,” she growled, sitting up and shaking dirt from her hair. Cassandra let out a snort of amusement, her hand coming up to cover her mouth. Cullen chuckled and offered a hand to Cassidy, helping her up. “Now that we’ve all been knocked down, can I continue with my lesson?” “Oh, yes sir!” Cassidy brought her hand up to her forehead, her elbow out to the side, her arm level with the ground, her fingertips touching her brow, and brought it back down with a grin on her face. What a strange gesture. It must have been something from her world.

They went back to bashing at each other, and Cullen found himself correcting Cassidy less and less. Cassandra picked up a training sword and shield after a while. “Take a break, Commander. If it’s just sparring, I think I can handle that.” Cassidy got a slightly concerned look. Cullen simply nodded and stepped back, drinking some water and watching.

In Cassandra’s defense, she did go easy on Cassidy, but she was much pickier than Cullen when it came to corrections. Still, it would make her a better warrior, and Cassidy seemed to take her advice to heart. It would take time, but she was getting better. Cullen soon rejoined them, stating, “you’ll likely face more than one enemy on the field. Let’s practice that a little.” She adjusted well, tightening her stance, swiveling on her hips, blocking mostly, and lashing out at them when she got the chance. Against two experts like them, she wouldn’t stand a chance, but against some rogue Templars and some bandits? Cullen thought she would hold her own, especially with a few more days training to go and people by her side to watch out for her.

He was proud of her. After their bit of a bonding moment in the stables that morning, perhaps he took more joy out of it than he should, but what was the harm in a little happiness and friendship in dark times? Besides, if her being in the stables at four in the morning was anything to go by, it was clear that she needed a friend as well.


	4. A Discussion of Faith

“How do you get it braided like that?” Cassidy asked Cassandra before shoving a large piece of bread into her mouth. Josephine sighed at the Herald’s deplorable table manners. Cassandra reached up, her fingers trailing lightly over the braid that wrapped around her head like a crown. “It is like any other braid,” she replied. Cassidy wrinkled her nose and mumbled, “I don’t think my hair would do that.” Cassandra had her gloves removed for the meal, so she reached out and touched Cassidy’s short strawberry blonde hair. It was surprisingly soft, almost downy beneath her fingertips. “Your hair is much finer than mine. You are correct. It would not hold very well. You could ask Cullen for the gel stuff he uses. Whatever concoction is capable of taming those curls can certainly hold a braid in your hair.” Cullen scoffed, “they weren’t that bad.” Varric laughed from further down the table. “I was in Kirkwall, Curly, I remember. They were bad.”

“The hair gel I understand,” Leliana had a sly smile on her face, “but why did you start wearing cologne? Why does a Templar decide he needs to be pretty?” Even Solas laughed at that one. Cullen’s cheeks practically glowed bright red. “I don’t do it to be pretty!” He insisted. “I just don’t want to smell like a sweaty battlefield when our Ambassador drags me in for meetings!” “A wise choice,” Josephine commented. “Many of them like the scent, and have asked what it is.” Cassandra leaned across the table, took a quick sniff, ignoring the Commander’s baffled look, and stated, “elderflower and oakmoss. It does suit you, Cullen.” Cassidy and Varric exchanged looks, and burst into a fit of laughter.

The “Inner Circle,” as Josephine called it, had started taking evening meals together, on the Ambassador’s insistence. Though they had been reluctant at first, Cassandra had to admit, she had come to enjoy the company of the people she would be travelling with. She was grateful to Josephine for arranging such a thing.

“Speaking of elderflower,” Cassidy rubbed her left arm, “I need to visit Adan.” She shot a playful glare at Solas, who ignored her and ate his meal. Cassidy had been practicing defending against magic with him, and had gotten a little singed. Cullen had been less than pleased. The two had grown quite close in the span of a week. Cassandra woke early, but they were always up and training before she was even awake.

She also suspected they were spoiling Maximillian, but that was beside the point.

They left for the Hinterlands the next morning. Cassandra wouldn’t admit it to her, but she believed that Cassidy was ready. Her swordplay was far from perfect, but it would do, and she certainly could handle herself should she find herself without one. She also wouldn’t be alone. Cassandra would be with her, along with Varric and Solas.

“Perhaps, instead of a braid,” Josephine suggested to Cassidy, “you could grow your hair a little longer. I know a number of different styles you could try.” Cassidy’s arm brushed against Cassandra as she shifted in her seat, running her fingers through her hair. “I don’t know, I’ve had it this short for at least ten years now. Since high school.” “What is high school?” Leliana asked. “Oh, so most people in my country are required to be in school for thirteen years when they turn five. The last four years are high school. Anyway,” Cassidy turned back to Josephine. “I’ll think about it, but that’s a big change.” Josephine smiled warmly. “Do not worry too much, it is no big deal if you decide to keep it short. I simply believe people will be more receptive to you if you have a bit of a more feminine appearance.” Cassidy snorted, “right, because the tits are so manly.” Cullen nearly choked. Varric guffawed, “you took the words right out of my mouth, Badger!”

Josephine hid her smile behind her hand. “You know what I meant. Besides, your armor significantly limits that. Perhaps a hair pin instead? Just something decorative that won’t get in the way. I would suggest a flower, but it would fall right out.” Solas looked thoughtful and suggested, “the merchant, Seggrit, probably has something.” Cassidy pursed her lips. “I thought he mostly sold weapons.” “He does,” Varric stated, “but occasionally he gets the odd thing or two up here. It can’t hurt to check.” Cassidy thought on it for a moment, then shook her head. “My hair is too short on the sides to hold any sort of pin effectively.” She let out a soft sigh. “Perhaps I will let it grow. It’ll be awfully shaggy for a while though.” “Then you’ll be able to use a pin to hold it back when it gets that long,” Cassandra stated.

Leliana stood. “Have a pleasant evening, everyone.” There were mumbles of returned goodbyes as she left. Leliana was always the first to leave. She was always so busy. Josephine turned to Cassidy, “don’t worry about lessons this evening. I will let you get your rest before your travels tomorrow.” Cassidy nodded with a smile, “thanks Josephine.” Josephine stood and wished everyone a pleasant night before leaving as well.

One by one they left until only Cassandra, Cassidy, and Cullen remained. Normally Cassandra would have left shortly after Josephine, but she had something she wished to discuss with Cassidy. Perhaps she shouldn’t, but she wanted the Herald’s opinion. Even if Cassidy knew next to nothing about the Maker, perhaps she could offer some insight, some view that Cassandra wasn’t seeing.

Cullen pushed himself up with the table. “A pleasant evening to you both,” he nodded to them. Cassidy smiled at him, “goodnight Cullen.” He gave her a half-smile back, “Cassidy,” and left. The two women sat in silence for a moment. Cassidy spoke first. “Something on your mind, Cassandra?” Perceptive, she was. Cassandra sighed heavily. “Have I done the right thing?” Cassidy leaned her elbows on the table. “What do you mean?”

“One day, history may write me as a traitor, a madwoman, a fool, a… a…” she spat the last word, “a _heretic,_ ” it left a bad taste on her tongue. “And they may be right.” Cassidy let out a deep, ponderous breath. “Well, someone had to do it, and from what I’ve seen, you were certainly the right person. Besides, we can’t turn back now.” Cassandra was not as soothed by her words as she would have liked. “I acted too fast. I practically kicked dirt in the Chantry’s face when it was still reeling from the destruction of the Conclave and the death of the Divine. I cannot afford to be so careless again.”

“You had cause.” Cassidy fiddled with her fork and a leftover piece of corn on her plate. “Chantry or not, we couldn’t afford to wait. Besides, if it’s history you’re worried about, history is written by the winners. If we win, you won’t have to worry about it.” Cassandra looked down at her. “You have such a strange way of looking at the world.” Cassidy shrugged. “It isn’t my world, remember? Consider it an outsider’s point of view.” She sat up and crossed her arms. “Look at this way. What does it matter what history thinks of you? You’ll be dead by then anyway.”

Cassandra let out a scoff. “It is not so simple.” Cassidy grinned, “maybe not. But you asked.” Cassandra rolled her eyes. “My mistake.” Cassidy laughed, “you’re delightful.” “I am not!” Cassandra huffed. “There is nothing delightful about me.” “I beg to differ.” Cassidy scooted away from Cassandra a bit and straddled the bench they sat on to face her.

Cassandra let out a disgusted grunt, and decided to change the subject. “So you don’t have a Maker, but do you believe in any gods?” Cassidy’s expression changed from her irritating grin to one of thoughtful pondering. “Yes.” This answer surprised Cassandra. She hadn’t taken Cassidy to be of the religious sort. “We have something very similar in my world, though people are much more divided than the Chantry. Then again, people in my world look for any reason to fight. So to answer your question, yes. Perhaps it’s even the same as yours, just by a different name. I mean, something brought me here. No Andraste though. That’s purely a you thing.”

Cassandra nodded slowly. “Thank you.” She said finally. “There is comfort in that.” Cassidy shrugged. “If we don’t believe in something, we’ve got nothing. If I don’t believe everything happens for a reason, I’ll probably go crazy.” Cassandra frowned a bit. “Is that the only reason you believe?” “Of course not.” Cassidy leaned back, puffing out her cheeks. “It isn’t simple. I know that sounds bad, it’s a bad thing to say, and it isn’t quite what I mean. I don’t know how else to say it. I’ve always believed, I was brought up that way, and there’s great comfort in it. Faith is a wonderful thing, but it’s worthless if it isn’t tested sometimes. But you come out stronger for it, and when you do, it’s great, and that faith is so fulfilling.” Cassandra nodded in understanding. “I get that. I do, really. Perhaps there are many differences, but it is nice to know that you understand what it is to be faithful. You understand my concerns then.”

“About being labeled a heretic?” Cassidy shrugged. “Maybe not fully. In my world, being branded a heretic was often wielded as a political threat more than a faith based one. Sometimes even a race thing. Many people who were labeled heretics weren't actually heretical at all. A lot were simply scientists. I mean, that’s practically ancient history now; people are a lot more lax about faith in the present day, but it used to be a huge deal. So yeah, I can sort of understand your fear about it. I don’t mean to seem so uncaring. I just… how do I put this? At this point, there ain’t shit you can do to change it, so you just have to keep on doing what you’re doing and hope it’s the right thing, you know?”

That made a lot more sense. Cassandra nodded slowly. Perhaps it wasn’t what she wanted to hear, but it did provide her with some comfort. “Thank you, Cassidy,” Cassandra stood. “We should rest early before tomorrow. I will see you in the morning.” Cassidy nodded, and smiled at her. “Goodnight, Cassandra.”


	5. Unfaltering

Cullen woke in a cold sweat, shooting upright in his cot, gasping for breath. The last lingering tendrils of his nightmare slunk away from him, only the fear remaining, and the pain. Maker, the _pain_. His ears were ringing, and his body cried out against him. He shook his head, running his fingers through his messy hair. “No. No, we’re done with that. No more. No more lyrium. No more. No!” He swung his feet over the side of the cot, grounded by the cold of the tent floor against the soles of his feet. He gripped the edge of the cot until his knuckles were white.

What was it, the term Cassidy used? Ride the lightning? Whatever it was, he just braced and sat there, waiting for the wave of agony to subside. His heart pounded; it was like war drums in his head. Each pulse brought a fresh burst of pain to his head. He ground his teeth, determined not to make any noise. He didn’t want any of his men to see him in this state. He felt unbearably hot, so he leaned forward, put his hands out to catch himself, and just sort of crumpled to the floor, pressing his bare chest to the cold surface. It helped, but not much. Still, it helped.

Finally, the pain began to fade, leaving him trembling. The heat left him, and he laid there, savoring the cold, before it began to bite him. He forced himself to sit up, reaching for a blanket to wrap around himself. “Maker, preserve me,” he mumbled, fumbling for the water skin that hung on the edge of his cot. He spilled half of it down his chest, but the other half soothed his burning throat. He felt horribly dizzy, but he’d take that to the burning any day.

Cullen decided he desperately needed to pray.

He pulled on a shirt, for decency sake, though he couldn’t imagine anyone was awake at this hour. He struggled with his boots, and could barely tell that they were on the wrong feet. He didn’t really care. He couldn’t think straight. He just needed to pray. He wrapped the blanket around himself once more and stumbled out of his tent, making his way through Haven towards the Chantry.

He pushed open the heavy doors, leaning against them for a few breaths before he closed them. He was half frozen by then, but he hardly noticed. He dragged his feet across the great hall towards the statue of Andraste. He noticed a figure kneeling there, barely illuminated by the candles around the alter. Who could possibly be here at this hour?

The figure looked up, and Cullen recognized Cassandra. “Cullen,” her voice, though in hushed tones, echoed throughout the silence of the Chantry late at night. “Have you come to pray?” There was an understanding between them. “Yes.” His voice sounded rather raw and broken to him, and he despised it. It was one of the reasons he had come. When he was at his lowest, he trusted the Maker to lift him up.

Cassandra shifted over, and he knelt beside her. She offered her hand, and he took it. She wasn’t wearing her gloves. Her hand was much warmer than his, though smaller. He lowered his head and closed his eyes, letting her pick the verses. He had picked them last time, after all, when they had prayed over the body of a fallen Templar during the battle of the Breach. She began with the first line, and his voice joined hers.

_“You have walked beside me_

_Down the paths where a thousand arrows sought my flesh._

_You have stood with me when all others_

_Have forsaken me._

_I have faced armies_

_With You as my shield,_

_And though I bear scars beyond counting, nothing_

_Can break me except Your absence._

_When I have lost all else, when my eyes fail me_

_And the taste of blood fills my mouth, then_

_In the pounding of my heart_

_I hear the glory of creation._

_You have grieved as I have._

_You, who made worlds out of nothing._

_We are alike in sorrow, sculptor and clay,_

_Comforting each other in our art._

_Do not grieve for me, Maker of All._

_Though all others may forget You,_

_Your name is etched into my every step._

_I will not forsake You, even if I forget myself._

_Maker, though the darkness comes upon me,_

_I shall embrace the Light. I shall weather the storm._

_I shall endure.*”_

Cullen let out a long, slow breath, and it was as if a weight came off his shoulders. He let go of Cassandra’s hand and sat back, bringing his legs in front of him. Cassandra put her hand on his shoulder. “Have faith, Cullen. If anyone can make it through this, it is you.” Cullen rubbed his face, laughing softly, ironically. “I don’t know. This was the worst one yet, and it will only go south from here. It’s been what, three weeks since I quit lyrium?” Cassandra’s voice was that same even, firm tone that she always used. “I told you I would watch out for you, and I will. It will not be easy, but you can do it.”

She removed her hand from his shoulder, and he heard her shuffling. He looked over his shoulder at her. She was digging in her pockets. She pulled out what appeared to be a leather pouch, and removed some dried leaves from it. By the smell, elfroot. “Here,” she pressed one to his lips. “Chew on these. It may not do much, but it will ease some of the pain.” He took the leaf, her fingers warm against his chilled face, and began to chew. The tang of the popular healing herb made him wrinkle his nose, but she was right. It would help.

She sat down beside him, clearly not planning on sleeping any time soon. She was still in her usual clothing, not her bedtime clothes. “What are you still doing awake?” Cullen asked, the leaf turning into a gummy pulp in his mouth. He resisted the urge to swallow it. Cassandra rested her arm on her bent knee, her other leg outstretched. “I am restless, and I knew I would not be able to sleep yet, so I am praying for safe passage.” Cullen nodded, adjusting the blanket on him and pulling it tighter. He was beginning to feel the chill.

“Did you know Cassidy is religious?” Cassandra asked, seemingly out of nowhere. It must have been on her mind. Cullen scratched his chin. He was feeling awfully itchy, another side effect of the lyrium withdrawals. “I did not, no. She believes in the Maker?” He found that hard to believe. “No,” Cassandra clarified, “but they have something similar in her world, and she believes in that. We talked about it earlier.” Cassandra sighed, leaning her head back. “They wield the word heretic like a sword, but what good is our faith if it isn’t tested? We cannot falter in the path the Maker has set before us simply because the Chantry cannot see it.”

Cullen smiled. “You’re feeling better about going against them, about the Inquisition.” It was an observation, not a question. “Yes, I am.” Cassandra stated. She brought her head back up, and looked at Cullen. “Your faith is being tested as well, Cullen. We cannot falter.” He nodded firmly, “we wont.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Chant of Light, Trials 1:5 - Trials 1:11 (last line of final stanza omitted)


	6. Surprise Learning Experiences

The chill of the Hinterlands made Cassidy glad for the weight of the chainmail coat over her padded coat, beneath the plate of her armor. Her poor horse might not have been so glad for the extra weight; the mare was no Maximillian, since the stallion had been claimed by Cassandra. She dismounted by the Inquisition scout camp just above the Crossroads. It was the only foothold the scouts had been able to get.

“Good luck down there,” Scout Harding wished them after the report. “It’s messy. You’ll need it.” Cassidy nodded grimly. War was always messy. She turned to Cassandra, Varric, and Solas. “Are you guys ready?” Varric loaded a bolt into Bianca. “Let’s get moving, Badger, the bad guys won’t wait forever.”

They approached the hill. “We should be careful getting down, we don’t want to get hurt.” It was rather steep, but Cassidy was no stranger to steep hills. Still, she was much heavier than she was used to being, so she lowered her weight to the ground and slid her way slowly down the hill. The others followed. Solas had the easiest time, being the lightest and the least armored.

Then the chaos began. Immediately launched into battle between the mages and rogue Templars, Cassidy barely had time to register that she was under attack before a ball of fire hit her shield and sent her stumbling back. Well, they had her attention now. She put her shield up to protect her unguarded face and charged the mages first, letting Cassandra keep the Templars at bay. She noticed a shimmer around herself. It sort of tickled. She saw Solas’s staff glowing the same colour. It clicked that he was casting a barrier over her.

She plowed into the first mage with the immense force of her charge. He was not ready for it at all, and clearly was no melee fighter. She wasted no time in running him through. She brought her shield up as the next mage hurled ice at her, but the barrier took the brunt of it. She ran at him, and let out a shout of frustration when he merely funneled himself away to a different location. She soon caught him, cutting his head clean off. She turned on the third, a woman who had a barrier up. Oh well, barriers would wear down. Cassidy bashed at the barrier with her shield over and over, occasionally bringing up her shield to block the magic projectiles that the mage flung at her. She finally cut through the barrier with her sword and slashed into the mage’s arm. “Mercy!” The mage cried, stumbling away from her, falling to the ground. “You’ll find no mercy here, terrorist,” Cassidy growled, adrenaline coursing through her. She thrust her sword into the mage’s heart.

She turned and raced towards Varric, who was firing at a big Templar with an even bigger hammer. Cassandra was preoccupied with two others giving her a hard time, and Solas had turned his attention to a few archers. Cassidy cursed under her breath and dove for the Templar’s legs, knowing she stood no chance against that hammer if it hit her. She went for the knees. She hit her mark, shoulder-tackling the Templar right below his knees, and his legs slipped out from underneath him. She scrambled forward so he wouldn’t land on her as he fell forward. His helmet dented inward as he landed.

He was big, but he was quick. She had knocked him down, but by the time she turned around and had her sword ready, he had rolled onto his back and was swinging his hammer at her. The blow was sloppy and desperate, but it still did its damage. It hit her square on the shoulder, earning a shrill cry of pain, and sent her sprawling in the grass. “Son of a BITCH!” She shouted, and began swearing wildly as she scrambled to her feet, her shield arm useless, and the weight of the shield was only a greater pain. She gripped her sword and faced the beast of a man.

Fortunately, the dent in the Templar’s helmet was just around his eye, and that eye was on the side that Varric was aiming from. With the metal weakened, Varric’s bolt went deep enough to deal the killing blow, and the Templar fell dead at Cassidy’s feet. Cassidy let out a sigh of relief, sheathing her sword.

Cassandra finished off the last Templar, and Solas rejoined them from chasing down the last of the archers. Cassidy grunted, hissing as she pulled her shield from her arm. “Fuck,” she whined. “Bastard crushed my shoulder.” She could see the blood pooling and dripping from her gauntlet, but she couldn’t feel it. What she could feel was the throbbing pain in her shoulder.

“With the fighting done, we can find a healer,” Cassandra urged her to sit against a wall on the side of the road and gingerly removed her gauntlet. Her hand was soaked in blood, and the mark on her hand was flaring about wildly, sparking and flashing. Solas took Cassandra’s place. “I can begin the process, but I fear this will be beyond my knowledge of healing magic.” Cassandra paced back and forth in front of her. “Shit. This is bad.”

Cassidy leaned her head back against the stone wall. She felt dizzy, and sick. She was aware of Varric calling out, “I’ll go find someone! The people here are probably locked in their cabins, hiding from the fighting!” Something touched her face, and she could smell leather and sweat. “Stay with me, Cassidy.” Cassandra’s voice seemed to echo. Something tingled around her shoulder. She could feel the shattered bones there starting to shift, and it ached. She took a few sucking breaths.

She was so sleepy.

* * *

Cassidy opened her eyes to the blue sky, and gentle chatter around her. "Did you see that?" "Healed up in one night!" "She really is blessed by Andraste!" "Andraste sent her to save us!" "Do you think she'll help us here?" "Hush, she's got enough to worry about. We'll manage." "Well what good is she if she doesn't help us here too? We're gonna starve before she fixes that hole in the sky."

She groaned softly and sat up, rubbing her eyes. Wait, her arm worked. She looked at her left shoulder. She was just in her linen shirt, though she remained in full armor from her waist down. She lifted her collar, and there weren’t even bandages. Just some light scars that had a soft, eerie green glow to them.

“It would seem that the mark amplifies any healing magic performed on you, and lucky for us, a decently skilled healing mage was nearby.” Solas’s calm voice reached her ears. She looked over to where he was sitting in the shade of one of the cabins, reading a book. “You simply slept overnight.” He closed his book and smiled warmly at her. “How do you feel?” She rolled her shoulder a bit. “Unsettled.” She answered honestly. “But relieved. I’m not keen on the idea of losing an arm.”

“Thank the Maker!” Cassandra came jogging up from the road. “I was so worried about you!” Her look of relief quickly turned to one of anger, and she grabbed Cassidy by the shoulders. “Don’t you dare do something that stupid again!” Cassidy stared for a moment, startled, then laughed. “Yes ma’am!” She grinned, teasing the Seeker. “You were really worried, huh? You do care, how sweet!” Cassandra let her go and rolled her eyes, grunting. “Don’t make fun of me, you brat. You could have died.” She turned away. Cassidy snickered and reached for her coat and armor.

Her plate had been mostly repaired. It had just needed hammered back into place. It was a little dented, but it didn’t need to look pretty. The padded coat had a bloody stain, but it could be washed. The chainmail was fine. Cassidy put it all on.

“She lives!” Varric greeted her as she walked through the Crossroads on her way to meet Mother Giselle. “The Badger prevails!” He was grinning. Cassidy returned his smile. “Takes more than a big hammer to take me down, apparently.” “A good thing too, we kind of need you.” Varric gave her a pat on the back. “Off to meet Mother Giselle?” Cassidy nodded. “Yeah. You met her?” Varric shrugged, “I saw her. I try to avoid the Chantry types. They don’t like me much.” Cassidy laughed a bit, “you? No!” “I know, but they are immune to my rugged charm and silver tongue.” He chuckled. “Go get em, Badger.”

Cassidy headed to the cabin Mother Giselle sat outside of, consoling a soldier. She was easy to spot, being the only one in Chantry robes. “Hush, child, let this man ease your suffering.” Though her tone was soft, she left no room for argument, and the soldier relented, letting the mage tend to him.

“Mother Giselle?” Cassidy approached, suddenly feeling nervous. Mother Giselle turned to her. “You must be the Herald of Andraste.” Cassidy rubbed the back of her neck. “That’s what they’re calling me.” Mother Giselle gave her a warm smile. “Come sit with me child. There is much to discuss.”

Cassidy spoke with Mother Giselle for quite a while. The Advisors had decided it best to not tell anyone that she was from another world, so no one outside of the inner circle knew, but Cassidy told Mother Giselle, finding the kind woman easy to talk to. Mother Giselle agreed to help the Inquisition face the Chantry, claiming that they should go to Val Royeaux to address the clergy. They needed to break the Chantry’s unified voice. Ironically, falling in front of the people here had done more good than harm, merely because the mark had helped her heal so quickly. They believed she was blessed. It would help sow seeds of doubt among the clergy.

Cassidy also learned more about the war between the mages and the Templars, specifically, about the havoc it had wreaked in that area. There were two groups on each side. The main rebellion of mages holed up in Redcliffe and had washed their hands of the apostates wandering the wilds of the Hinterlands, attacking everyone and anyone on sight. Then the main group of Templars were supposedly still in Val Royeaux, while the Templars in the Hinterlands had gone rogue, and were also attacking everything that moved.

Cassidy wanted to clean things up a little. When she spoke of this to her companions, they agreed. Besides, doing some good in the area might make things go a little smoother with the clergy in Val Royeaux. Cassidy also spoke with Corporal Vale, an Inquisition scout who was coordinating relief efforts for the refugees in the area. People were cold and starving, and they might be able to help.

It was settled. They would stay the night at the small inn at the Crossroads, and in the morning, they’d get started. Cassidy hoped they could make a difference. Cassandra seemed to have faith that they would.


	7. Give and Take

Well, shit.

Things were not going well.

They had gone after the rebel mages in the backwoods first, and that had gone relatively fine. After that, they had turned back and headed for the broken bridge and the entrance to the rogue Templar’s makeshift headquarters. That was where things started going awry. The Templars had been a little better prepared for them.

In short, they were swarmed.

Cassandra was doing just fine. Varric was providing her support, having reached a vantage point a little higher up on some rocks. She was taking on the brunt of the Templars. Cassidy was fighting three, one with a hammer and two with tower shields. Solas was providing her backup, but they were suppressing him as much as they could. The battle wasn’t lost yet, but they were getting there.

Cassidy pushed her own shield against one of the tower shields, digging her heels in and getting into a battle of strength she knew she would lose. She wasn’t weak, but her size was working against her. She dropped to the ground as the hammer swung at her. It hit the tower shield instead, not harming its bearer, but sending him stumbling back. The third brought his sword down on her back. Her plate took the brunt of the blow, thank you Harritt, but it still hurt enough for her to see stars.

“Solas!” Cassidy shouted, rolling away. “A potion! A potion, dammit, give me one of those healing potions!” She saw the glint of glass flying through the air and dropped her sword to catch it. She popped the cork off and took it like a shot. It was thinner than the potion she was used to, and tasted… odd, like wet stone and something she couldn’t place, and it tasted _cold,_ but it burned going down her throat. “What the fuck was that?” She coughed, dropping the glass.

“Herald, behind you!” Solas shouted. Cassidy turned, just as one of the tower shield Templars charged her. It was then that the full effect of the lyrium Solas had mistakenly thrown her hit her, and she felt what could best be described as the most intense adrenaline rush of her life. Instead of choosing to dodge out of the way, she brought her shield up and charged the Templar, letting out a thundering battle cry. She barreled into him, and they went tumbling to the ground, her force winning over his. She bashed her gauntlet-covered fist into his helm until it was nothing but a bloody lump of metal. It only took five hits.

She looked up, an intense bloodlust overcoming her, and went for the other two. The hammer swung at her legs. She jumped over it, throwing her body at the wielder’s face, wrapping her legs around his neck, screeching like a banshee. The weight of her and her armor pulling him forward was too much for him to keep his balance and he stumbled. She tore the helm from his face and drove her fingers into his eyes, earning a howl of agony. Blood and gore splattered across her face as she curled her fingers and yanked, breaking his cheekbones with a sickening crack.

She fell with him, struggling to disentangle herself as the third raised his sword to strike. She managed to bring her shield up to block the blow, and kicked the body away from herself, finally free of it. She blocked another blow of the sword, barely feeling the reverberation on her arm.

Whatever this stuff that Solas had given her was, she liked it.

She rolled away and sprang to her feet, ready to pounce on the Templar. His shield was up, and he was on the full defensive after what she had done to the other two. His full focus was on her.

That meant he wasn’t suppressing Solas. Solas froze him. Cassidy grinned and used her shield to shatter the bastard, stomping his head in for good measure.

Cassandra and Varric had just finished off the last one on their side at that point. Cassidy’s heart was racing. “I don’t know what kind of Thedas steroid that was, Solas, but that was incredible!” She shouted, feeling like she was on cloud nine. Solas didn’t look so pleased. He handed Cassidy her sword. “I believe I accidentally gave you a lyrium potion. My apologies. In the heat of battle, I reached for the wrong vial.” “Oh don’t apologize!” Cassidy sheathed her sword and strapped her shield to her back. “I feel great!”

“You gave her _lyrium?!_ ” Cassandra’s eyes were wide. “Maker!” She looked at the bodies. Cassidy shook blood from her gauntlet and made an effort to wipe it from her face. Solas looked thoughtful. “It appears that the mark amplifies the effects of lyrium as well. Perhaps it is assisting in the defense of its host?”

Varric let out a low whistle. “You sure did a number on those guys, Badger. Did you not break your fingers?” Cassandra shook her head, “no, she wouldn’t have. The lyrium would have strengthened them, and her gauntlets protected them. She may have some bruising, but that will be all.”

Cassidy was still itching for a fight. “Aren’t there any more of these bastards?” She didn’t understand why the others seemed so… solemn. She was stronger. She could actually defend herself with this. Wasn’t that a good thing?

Cassandra turned to her. “Cassidy, you cannot take it again.” She seemed stern. “Why the fuck not? You’ve said so yourself, I’m still learning with a sword and shield. You saw what happened yesterday. We may not have a good healer on hand next time. If this lyrium can prevent that-“ “It’s not worth it!” Cassandra’s voice was tinged with something almost pained. “Lyrium, it’s addictive.” Cassidy thought of Cullen. She sighed, “look, how about just little bits in rough battles, and if it gets to be too much, I’ll quit like Cullen did.”

Cassandra groaned. “You stubborn fool, it is not that simple!” Cassidy crossed her arms. “It’s not like I don’t know what addiction is. This lyrium is just like any other drug my world has that makes people do weird shit. It’s kind of like meth, except meth makes people crazy on the first dose. Like, crazy crazy. Lyrium, you get to keep your brain, with all the strength; it isn’t that bad. I’ll keep it to a minimum, okay? I just don’t want to leave all of the hard fighting to you. It’s not right.”

Cassandra sighed, turning away. “Fine. But only as much as you need. No more.” Varric scratched his neck, “this is a bad idea.” Cassandra nodded. “It is, but she is right. She is not good enough with a sword yet to be safe enough on her own, and should we get separated, her safety must be the top priority.” She looked back at Cassidy, her eyebrows furrowed, with a harsh scowl. “No more than you need, understand? And only for the hard battles.” Cassidy nodded, “yes ma’am.”

* * *

“She took WHAT?!” Cullen roared when Leliana read him the report of the Hinterlands. Of course, Leliana’s scouts had been regularly updating her on their progress in the area. They had done well, taking out the mages, feeding and clothing the local people, and hunting down the rogue Templars, right up until the reports stated that the Herald had accidentally taken a dose of lyrium. Not only that, but it had given her such strength in battle, she had decided to keep taking it.

“In small doses, and only in major battles,” Leliana’s voice was calm and collected. “Cassandra is keeping a close eye on it.” Cullen slammed his fists on the war table. “That should be entirely out of the question! We cannot risk losing the Herald of Andraste to a bloody lyrium addiction!” He was shaking. He put his hand over his mouth. He couldn’t even bear to think of Cassidy addicted to lyrium. They had become good friends, and the thought of losing her hurt him more than he cared to admit.

“We cannot risk losing her to combat, either.” Leliana stated. “According to Solas, the mark amplifies the effects of the lyrium, so she needs much less to be affected.” “Oh, the apostate says it’s safe! It’s perfectly fine then!” Cullen threw his hands up. “Commander,” Josephine’s tone was firm, “please contain yourself. I am aware the Herald is a good friend to you; she a friend of mine as well, but we must consider that perhaps this decision is for the best. Should it become an issue, she can always quit.”

“Quitting lyrium could kill her, too.” Cullen’s voice lowered, but his frustration and rage burned just as hot. How could Cassandra allow this? How could Cassidy allow this, knowing what it had done to him? But she didn’t know, not fully. She knew he was an insomniac, and she knew he sometimes had dizzy spells, but that was it. She could probably guess he had nightmares. But she knew nothing of the pain, the agony, the hot flashes, and the panic in the middle of the night. He couldn’t bear to think of her in the same state.

Leliana sighed, clearly having no patience for the debate. “What’s done is done. We can’t turn back now, Commander. The Herald and Cassandra have done what they think is necessary for the Herald’s safety, and to be frank, I agree with them. I wouldn’t have thought of it, but since it’s been done, I think it should be continued.” Cullen rubbed his face, his gloves catching on his stubble. He hadn’t shaved in a few days. “As long as they truly do keep it to a minimum,” he gave in. He just hoped they knew what they were doing.

* * *

Cassandra woke to gentle splashing sounds outside of her tent. She sat bolt upright, her hand going to her sword, only relaxing when she heard Cassidy’s voice mumbling, breaking in time with the splashes, and put together what was going on. Cassidy was on watch. They had camped just outside of the farmlands for the night, planning on approaching the old horse master in the morning. Cassidy was either tired and waking herself up with cold water from the stream, or she was coming off of her lyrium high. Cassandra was willing to bet on the latter.

Cassandra slipped out of her sleeping bag and pulled on her boots. She crawled out of her tent and spotted Cassidy sitting on a rock, her boots and gauntlets off, her bare feet in the water. Her head was in her hands. The faint glow of lyrium bottles hanging from her belt clashed with the green light of the mark.

“That’s no way to perform a watch,” Cassandra approached. She hoped her tone wasn’t too harsh. She was trying to start a conversation, and not scold, but she was aware she was no good at it. Fortunately, Cassidy seemed to get her meaning. “Feels like a hangover, after binge drinking,” the shorter woman commented, her thumbs rubbing her temples. “I’m not the only one on watch though. There are Inquisition scouts around. Leliana’s always watching, isn’t she?”

She certainly was perceptive. Cassandra put a hand on her shoulder. “Does it hurt much? Seekers do not take lyrium, so I would not know.” Cassidy shrugged, leaning into Cassandra’s touch slightly. “It’s not too bad. Like I said, a bad hangover. Maybe a little shaky, like coming off an adrenaline rush.” Cassandra tilted her head, “adrenaline?” Cassidy laughed softly, “right, you guys don’t do a whole lot of science. You know when you get really excited in battle, or when you get scared, and you get a lot stronger and faster, and you get that tunnel vision? Adrenaline is the chemical that causes that.”

What kind of world did she come from, where they knew that?

“I understand your meaning.” Cassandra said. She took her hand from Cassidy’s shoulder and went into her pocket, pulling out a small leather pouch. “Here,” she took a dried elfroot leaf from the pouch. “Chew on this. It will help ease the pain.” Cassidy took it from her and put it in her mouth, wrinkling her nose at the taste. The moonlight reflected in her eyes, which appeared much darker in the night, the usual green looking like two black lakes.

She was rather attractive, Cassandra thought. Not like the dressed up noblewomen with their long, adorned hair and fancy dresses, or whores with their low cut dresses and cinched waists. Cassandra had never particularly cared for women anyway. Cassidy wasn’t attractive like the chevaliers with their thick beards and beefy arms, or the elven men with their sharp jaws and wry smiles. Not even like Cassandra liked to think herself attractive, beautiful and powerful and striking, though she wouldn’t admit aloud she thought that of herself. Cassidy’s attractiveness was an acquired taste, perhaps, with her thin, gentle face and round eyes in stark contrast with her muscular body and cropped hair, and there was practically no curve to her waist, but Cassandra rather liked it. Perhaps what she liked most was Cassidy’s abrasiveness. Too many women, and even men, were afraid of offending her, but Cassidy didn’t seem to care. She wasn’t mean, but she said what she felt, and she was honest, even if she was often vulgar about it. Perhaps, in the back of her mind, Cassandra was starting to feel the beginnings of a romantic tug towards the Herald. Cassandra was a hopeless romantic, after all.

“That does help,” Cassidy broke her out of her thoughts, her jaw working on the leaf, her gaze lowered to the sparkling water. “May I sit?” Cassandra asked. Cassidy scooted over, and Cassandra sat down next to her, ending up with their backs together on the rock. “You took my warm spot,” Cassidy’s tone was teasing. “Now my ass is cold.” Cassandra smiled despite herself. “My apologies. You didn’t have to move.” She felt Cassidy shrug, “nah, it’s fine. It’ll warm up soon enough. Besides, your back is warm.” Cassandra didn't often see Cassidy without her armor on. She wore just her padded coat now, and Cassandra could feel the gentle warmth coming off of her. It was pleasant.

“Cullen isn’t going to be happy about the lyrium.” Cassidy stated, her voice quiet. She sounded guilty. Cassandra replied, “no, he is not. But he will understand. We will all have to make sacrifices. If this is what it takes, then this is what it takes. Perhaps when you get further along with your swordplay, you can quit, but for now, I do think you are right. I cannot protect you well enough.”

Cassidy leaned her head back, resting it on Cassandra’s left shoulder. Cassandra glanced at her. Her eyes were closed, her short brown lashes were still damp from the water she had been splashing on her face, and her hair stuck to her forehead. Cassandra noticed she wasn’t chewing. “You’re not supposed to swallow the elfroot, idiot.” Cassidy opened her eyes, “really? Shit.” Cassandra rolled her eyes, trying not to smile.

Cassidy’s left hand came up on the other side of Cassandra’s head, the glow visible out of the corner of Cassandra’s eye. “You’ve got a piece of grass or something stuck to your face,” Cassidy muttered. Her fingers were cold as she brushed them over Cassandra’s cheek, knocking away whatever was there. “It must have been on my sleeve.” Carrying pillows with their horses was too bulky, so they just went without. Cassandra tended to use her arm as a pillow.

Cassandra reached up and caught Cassidy’s hand, looking at the anchor. It was like a small glowing gash, not particularly active at the moment. “Does it still bother you?” “Not really. It kind of feels funny sometimes, like when Solas casts a barrier on me, it tickles. Kind of. More like a limb falling asleep. Maybe it's when I interact with magic? I don’t know. It doesn’t hurt though.” Cassandra let her hand go. “Good.” She leaned her head back, resting it on Cassidy’s collarbone. It was a surprisingly comfortable way to sit, with them both slouching a bit.

Varric found them sleeping like that early the next morning. “They’re going to have aching backs all day,” he muttered to himself, but he smiled all the same, not having the heart to wake them just yet.


	8. Preparing to Leave for the Capitol

There was hope in the hearts of those around the war table. Perhaps success was within their reach after all.

“We’ll have those watchtowers you requested built while you’re in Val Royeaux,” Cullen stated, his hands clasped behind his back. “Good job on convincing Dennet to join the Inquisition once it’s safe to travel. He’ll be a good man to have around.”

“When you return to the Hinterlands,” Leliana had a few half-rolled reports in her hand, her other hand resting on the table, “there’s something I’d like you to look into, along with clearing the East Road of Bandits. The Grey Wardens have all vanished since the Conclave, which is extremely odd. I want to think that they had nothing to do with this, but with the timing…” She trailed off. She shook her head. “We’ve located one, Warden Blackwall, by the upper lake, not too far from the farms in the Hinterlands. When you go back, you should try to find him.” “Of course,” Josephine cut in, “that’s after you visit the Storm Coast to look into these ‘Bull’s Chargers’ mercenaries.” “And after we search for the missing soldiers in the Fallow Mire.” Cullen reminded them, crossing his arms.

Cassidy nodded. It was a lot to remember, but that’s what she had them for. “First things first,” Cassandra’s voice caught her attention, “we must address the clergy at Val Royeaux. We should leave as soon as possible. We have already waited too long.”

They had grown close during their time in the Hinterlands. Cassandra was a very steady person, and balanced out Cassidy’s flux in emotion that came along with adjusting to the small doses of lyrium. Cassidy had come to consider her a good friend over the past few weeks. It was a vast improvement from being in chains in front of the Seeker.

“You’ve only been back for a few hours. Is it wise to ride again so soon?” Cullen’s concern was clear. “Are you concerned for the horses?” Cassidy asked. “There is no need. Maximillian will be fine, and the Ferelden Forder that Horsemaster Dennet gave me after we took care of the demon wolf problem will be more than fine.” She grinned. “I named her Rhona.”

“And what of Varric and Solas?” Josephine asked. “Dennet only gifted one horse. Theirs need to rest.” “Solas does not wish to go,” Cassandra explained. “He is concerned that the presence of an elven apostate will do us no good in trying to appeal to the Chantry. I am inclined to agree. As for Varric, Rhona is big enough to carry two full grown men with ease. She can handle the Herald and Varric.”

Josephine nodded. “Remember, you are not there to make enemies. Do not let Varric’s mouth get you into trouble.” Cullen frowned. “I still don’t like the idea of you leaving so quickly. Showing up to Val Royeaux exhausted will do no one any good.” Cassidy snorted, “aww, you do care.” He rolled his eyes, “this is serious.” Cassidy sighed. “I think we’re all used to being a little sleep deprived. It’ll be fine.” He still didn’t seem happy, but was placated.

“If there is nothing else,” Cassandra waited a moment, then excused herself. Cassidy was ready to follow, but Cullen cleared his throat loudly and gave her a meaningful look. She stayed. Leliana and Josephine left soon after.

“Lyrium? Cassidy, you’re better than that.” Well, guilt trip right off the bat then. Cassidy crossed her arms. “Cullen, I know how you must feel, but-“ he put his hand up, cutting her off. “No, I know your reasons, and I understand. I just-“ he sighed, running his hands through his hair. There was pain on his face. Cassidy gulped. “Cullen, it’s okay. I’m not taking much, and it’s not often. I’ll quit as soon as I’m good enough with the sword and shield.”

“Maker, I know,” he clenched his fist at his side. “Damn Solas, he should have been more careful.” Cassidy scowled, “Commander,” she said sharply, “don’t you blame him. Honestly, if it weren’t for him, I might not have won that fight.” Cullen let out a little “hmph.” “I heard it was bloody.” Cassidy chuckled at the thought. “It was. It got everywhere. I scrubbed my face for quite a while.”

Cullen’s golden eyes met hers with a pleading look. “Just promise me you’ll be careful. I know we haven’t known each other long, but I consider you a friend. I’d hate to lose you at all, but I’d really hate to lose you to lyrium.” She reached out and put her hand on his shoulder. “I promise. Lyrium is new, but I know how drugs work. I’ll be careful.” He smiled in that half-smile way he tended to.

Cassidy picked up her gauntlets from the table. “Well, you heard Cassandra. Any longer and she’ll try to drag me behind her horse. Walk with me? You should meet Rhona. She’s a beauty.” Cullen nodded and followed her out the door. They walked through Haven, the chill nipping at Cassidy’s nose and ears. She once again found herself appreciative of her heavy armor.

“How are the recruits coming along?” She asked, making small talk on their way. “Much better than they had been, the first group anyway. More keep coming. A lot have come from the Hinterlands, surprisingly, now that things have gotten better there. The Inquisition is making a difference, and they want to help.” He looked down at her. “You’re making a difference.”

She got a weird moment of Déjà vu. She shook it off.

“Well, let’s hope the Chantry sees it that way.” She entered the stable, making her way to the stall where her massive warhorse was kept. Rhona snorted when she approached, shaking her mane out. Cassidy laughed, “we’re still working things out, friends-wise, but in battle we work smoothly.” She reached up and pat Rhona on the neck. Rhona certainly was a big girl. Cassidy barely came up to her shoulder.

Cullen reached up, putting his hand out to Rhona. Cassidy noted that Rhona seemed to like him. Perhaps it was the way he smelled. Probably smelled delicious to a horse. Cullen had a soft smile on his face, “she _is_ beautiful.” Cassidy nodded. “Yeah she is. Help me tack her up?”

They soon had Rhona saddled and bridled and were packing her saddlebags when Cassandra approached with Maximus and Varric. “Are you ready?” Cassandra asked. “Almost,” Cassidy looked around her. “Oh, where did it go? It was in my pocket, then I set it in the grass. Where has it gone?”

“You mean this?” Cullen held up her comb. “Yes!” Cassidy took it and put it in the saddlebag. “Thank you, Cullen.” Cassandra raised an eyebrow, “what do you need a comb for? Your hair is not that long.” “No, but it’s very fine,” Cassidy explained, “and it tends to get frizzy, or I get bedhead. Water takes care of these things, but a comb makes it look neater.” Cassandra shrugged. “Whatever makes you happy.”

Cassidy put her hands on Rhona’s withers, ready to mount. She let out a squeak of surprise when she felt hands around her waist, sliding under her plate, and lifting her up. She tossed her leg over Rhona and settled in the saddle, looking down at Cullen, whom had lifted her and her armor up onto the horse.

Damn, he must be strong.

“Thank you, Cullen,” she beamed down at him. “You’re welcome.” He nodded, his cheeks pink. Of course, her armor wasn’t light, and she weighed as much as a muscular human woman typically did, so a certain amount of effort had to have been involved. She was surprised he wasn’t redder.

“My turn, Curly.” Varric had a shit-eating grin on his face. Cullen rolled his eyes, “up you go, dwarf.” He practically tossed Varric, who didn’t have any armor weighing him down. Varric settled behind Cassidy. Cullen offered Cassandra a hand, but she refused. “Thank you Cullen, but I am a bit taller, and Maximus is not quite so massive.” She mounted and turned Maximus in the direction of the road.

That was when Chancellor Roderick started stirring up trouble. “You dare despoil the capitol with your heresy?” Cullen rolled his eyes. “You’d better get going. Don’t worry, he’s toothless. I’ll keep things under control here.” Cassidy gave him a wink, “good luck, cleric wrangler.” He laughed a bit and turned away to deal with the Chancellor. Cassidy rode off after Cassandra with Varric hanging on to her.

She got to thinking about Val Royeaux, since the ride was mostly consisting of Varric annoying Cassandra and Cassandra threatening Varric with bodily harm. What was she going to say? What if someone wanted to fight? She gave Rhona’s neck a gentle scratching, more of a comfort to herself than the strong-willed mare. She’d figure it out. She wasn’t alone, after all.


	9. Hidden Faces

Cassidy was in awe the moment she walked through the gates of Val Royeaux. They had left their horses with a stablemaster just outside the city, and walked in on foot. She gazed up at the architecture, the massive intricate statues and the beautifully painted walls of the tall buildings. She had never been to Paris, but she imagined even Paris couldn’t compare to the flashy colours of Val Royeaux, and the people were just as ornate. Their masks glinted in the sun, and those heavy looking clothes had to be uncomfortably warm. Cassidy was glad Josephine didn’t expect her to dress that way.

Unfortunately, even as she admired them, the people there seemed to be wary of her, if not outright fearful. “I think they know who we are,” Varric’s tone was joking, but the statement was a serious one. “Your skills of observation never fail to impress me, Varric.” Cassandra grunted sarcastically. “No doubt the Chantry has spread awful rumors, with their influence being the strongest here.”

“My Lady Herald!” A woman dressed in the Inquisition scout uniform came jogging up to them, and knelt before Cassidy. That made her rather uncomfortable, but before she could say anything, Cassandra spoke to the scout. “You’re one of Leliana’s people. What have you found?” The scout reported, “the Chantry Mothers await you, but so do a great many Templars!”

“There are Templars here?” Cassandra raised an eyebrow, exchanging glances with Cassidy. The Scout nodded and added, “people seem to think the Templars will protect them from the Inquisition. They’re gathering on the other side of the market. I think that’s where the Templars intend to meet you. They’re led by the Lord Seeker himself!”

“Maybe we should have brought Chuckles after all,” Varric crossed his arms. Cassandra shook her head, “we must avoid fighting here. We need the people to learn that we are no threat to them.” She waved the scout away. “Return to Haven. Someone will need to inform them if we are delayed. If we have not returned within two days, send reinforcements. The Herald is the priority.” “As you say, my Lady.”

Cassandra turned to Cassidy. “I know Lord Seeker Lucius. I can’t imagine him coming to the Chantry’s defense, not after all that occurred. Something is not right here.” Varric snorted, “great, another crazed leader. Keep your eyes open, Badger. He might turn into a red statue.”

They passed through the Market Square, where a platform had been erected, and a crowd had gathered around it. A Revered Mother was preaching from it. “Good people of Val Royeaux, hear me! Together, we mourn our Divine, her beautiful and naïve heart silenced by treachery!” She gestured right at Cassidy, and the crowd parted before her. Cassidy made her way to the platform. She might as well be heard.

“You wonder what will become of her murderer,” the Mother continued, “well wonder no more! Behold, the so-called Herald of Andraste, claiming to rise where our beloved fell! We say this is a false prophet, no servant of anything beyond her own selfish greed!” There were murmurs among the people, and Cassidy was all too aware of the clenched fists and the pressing of the crowd.

Cassidy had to act quickly. She cleared her throat and spoke loud and clear. “We came here in peace, simply to talk, and this is what you do? I implore you, let us sit down together and deal with the real threat. Has there not been enough bloodshed?” Cassandra added quickly, “it’s true, the Inquisition only seeks to end this madness before it is too late!”

“It is already too late!” The Revered Mother pointed, and all heads turned to where a group of Templars approached in full armor. Cassidy gulped, but kept her itching hand from the hilt of her sword. She would not start a fight here. The Revered Mother seemed almost desperate as she stepped back on the platform, still speaking. “The Templars have returned to the Chantry! They will face this Inquisition and the people will be safe once more!”

No one was ready for what actually happened. The Lord Seeker crossed in front of the Revered Mother, and the Templar behind him punched her in the back of the head. She fell to the ground with a pained cry. There were gasps from the crowd. Cassidy’s eyes widened. “What?”

The Lord Seeker addressed his Templars, sneering. “She is beneath us.” Cassidy was shocked, then angry. He could have displayed his displeasure in less violent means. “What is the meaning of this?” She growled, stepping forward. The Lord Seeker turned to her. “Her claim to authority is an insult, much like your own.” He then left the platform.

Cassandra tried to appeal to him after the shock wore off. “Lord Seeker Lucius, it is imperative that we speak with-“ he cut her off. “You will not address me.” _What a dick._ Cassidy thought, rather disgusted by his behavior. This man was supposed to be a leader of a high order of elite warriors of faith? Someone made a bad decision in choosing him.

“Lord Seeker?” Clearly Cassandra was confused by his behavior as well. “Creating a heretical movement,” he snarled, “raising up a puppet as Andraste’s prophet, you should be ashamed. You should _all_ be ashamed! The Templars failed no one when they left the Chantry to purge the mages. You are the ones who have failed. You, who would leash our righteous swords with doubt and fear. If you came to appeal to the Chantry, you are too late. The only destiny here that demands respect is _mine!_ ”

“Someone’s full of himself,” Cassidy heard Varric mutter under his breath. Cassidy found herself rather angry. She hated people like this, especially leaders. Toxic leadership was a serious issue. “Demand respect?” She sneered. “You? You seem like nothing more than a dancing monkey to me, prancing about Val Royeaux waving your mighty sword about. You should be helping to seal the Breach, the real threat to _everyone_ here, regardless of who or what they are. The Templars could help,” she tried appealing to the other Templars, hoping they would see through their leader.

“The Breach is indeed a threat,” the Lord Seeker stated, scowling. “But you certainly have no power to do anything about it.” Cassidy wanted to bash his face in, was he fucking daft? She felt Cassandra’s fingers on her forearm, pressing lightly against the plate there. It was enough to hold her back.

“But Lord Seeker,” one of the Templars stepped forward. “What if the Maker did send her? What if-“ Another Templar, the one whom had hit the Revered Mother, stopped him. “You are called to higher things. Do not question.” He sounded rather brainwashed. The Lord Seeker declared to the crowd, “I will make the Templar Order a power that stands alone against the void. We deserve recognition, independence! You have shown me nothing, and the Inquisition, less than nothing! Templars, Val Royeaux is unworthy of our protection. We march!” With that, they left.

They were a fucking cult. This wasn’t the Order Josephine had taught her about. There was something dreadfully wrong here.

“Charming fellow, isn’t he?” Varric rubbed his chin. Cassandra crossed and uncrossed her arms, clearly stressed. “Has Lord Seeker Lucius gone mad?” Cassidy asked her, “was he always like that?” “No,” Cassandra answered firmly. “The Lord Seeker I knew was a decent man, never given to ambition and grand-standing. This is very bizzare.” She rubbed the bridge of her nose. “There must be those in the Order who see what he’s become. We should return to Haven and inform the others.”

Cassidy looked over her shoulder, at the stage. A few clerics were gathered around the Revered Mother. They were trying to pull her to her feet, but they weren’t strong enough, not with her as a dead weight. “In a moment, Cassandra,” she said and approached the platform. She stepped up onto it, painfully aware of the eyes on them. If the Mother rejected her now, it wouldn’t be good, but she had to try.

“Have you come to gloat?” The Mother didn’t bother to look up at her, her gnarled hand resting on the back of her head where she had been hit. There was no blood, but she likely had a nasty concussion. Cassidy knelt beside her, and kept her voice soft. “You probably have a bad injury, Revered Mother. If I could offer some advice, I’d stay out of bright light and away from loud noise for a couple of weeks. Get plenty of rest, but don’t go to sleep until tonight. If you go to sleep now, it will be worse. It will be painful, so here,” she went in her pockets and pulled out a dried elfroot leaf from a pouch of them that Cassandra had given her. “Chew on it. It will help.”

The Revered Mother took it and put it in her mouth. “Why do you show me such kindness? I have done nothing but slander you and threaten you.” Cassidy answered, “should that be a reason? I have fought men, then held bandages against the very wounds I inflicted. Just because you see me as an enemy does not mean I hold any ill will towards you. Besides, you are a woman of the cloth. The people must see you stand.” She offered her hand.

There was a long moment, and Cassidy was afraid the Revered Mother was going to reject it. The Revered Mother looked up at her. There were tears in her eyes, of course, from the pain, but there was also hope. “Tell me, child, are you faithful? Do you truly believe that Andraste chose you? That she delivered you from the Fade?” She asked loud enough for the people watching to hear.

Cassidy was not prepared for that question. With people watching, she knew her answer would hold a heavy weight. “I do not know for certain that it was she that delivered me from the Fade,” she began. “But yes, I believe that Andraste chose me to deliver the world from this evil. The people must come first. I will not see her servants crumble before the trials set before them. Let me help you stand, Revered Mother. Please.”

The Revered Mother took her hand, her wrinkled fingers appearing tiny in Cassidy’s gauntlet. Cassidy’s other arm came around the Mother, lifting her by the waist. The Mother put an arm around her shoulders and stood shakily on her feet. She let go of Cassidy’s hand and put her hand on Cassidy’s forehead. “Maker, I call on you to bless this child, for her path is long and dark. Do not let her faith waver. Give her strength to be the light in the darkness. Andraste guide you, child.”

There were murmurs from the crowd, and they were no longer angry. Cassidy felt guilty about lying to them about her faith, but she had done what was necessary. Besides, the blessing gave her some peace. Perhaps she didn’t quite follow the faith, but the belief of the people was a comfort. Calling upon the highest power they knew, asking for her safety? It was quite a gift.

She handed off the Revered Mother to the Clerics and stepped off the Platform. Varric looked impressed. Cassandra’s expression was unreadable. They left Val Royeaux before anything could happen to turn the crowd against them again, and recieved an invitation to meet with Madame de Fer on the way out. They also found notes from a "Red Jenny." They'd have to come back to investigate.

Hopefully the mood of the crowd would spread. They had certainly done enough to plant doubt within the Chantry.

* * *

They camped in a pine forest for the night, not wanting to push all the way back to Haven in one go. Cassandra had not said a word the whole way. Varric had been very expressive in his approval of how the trip had gone, and in how much of an ass the Lord Seeker was. Cassidy wasn’t quite sure how to feel.

Cassidy was sitting by the fire when Cassandra finally spoke. “Get up,” the Seeker growled, standing over her, and Cassidy was reminded of an angry bear. Varric was on the other side of the fire. “Woah, Seeker, what’s got your-“ “Shut up Varric.” Oh, she was _pissed_. Cassidy gulped and stood. The shadows dancing across Cassandra’s face only made her dark expression scarier.

The woman was intimidating.

“Step away from the fire. I don’t want you to fall in it when I hit you.” Cassandra ordered. Cassidy blinked. “Hold on a second, if you’re going to hit me, I get to know why.” Cassandra removed her gauntlets. “You lied about _my_ faith. You _used_ it. By doing so, you sullied Andraste’s name. I understand why, and I think it did more good than harm given the circumstances. I have even been considering it all day, but I still think you deserve to be hit.”

Cassidy thought for a moment. “You know, that’s fair. I’d be pretty pissed too. Alright, just don’t aim for the eye, please.” Varric stood, “you can’t be serious!” Cassidy put her hand up, “no, she’s right, Varric. Plus, I did it without even talking it over with her first. She’s well within her rights, and I’m okay with this.” She stood and stepped away from the fire, making sure she had a soft place to land in case Cassandra knocked her over.

Cassandra stood in front of her, expressionless with the exception of her eyes. Her eyes were blazing with fury. Cassidy felt rather small in that moment. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry, Cassandra.” Cassandra nodded. “I will forgive you after I hit you.” Cassidy braced herself, making sure she wouldn't bite her own tongue off.

Cassandra left-hooked her square in the jaw. She spun and landed face down on the ground in the pine needles. “Fuck, Seeker, you didn’t have to hit her that hard!” Varric protested. Cassidy was seeing stars. She rolled onto her back, puffing out a few breaths. “Shit.” “Now I forgive you.” Cassandra stated. Cassidy gave her a thumbs up.

Cassidy sat up after a few minutes of just laying there, rubbing her jaw. She was going to have one hell of a bruise. Cassandra was sitting by the fire, sharpening her sword. Varric gave Cassidy a sympathetic look. Cassidy got to her feet and went over to Cassandra, sitting down next to her. “Hey,” she nudged the taller woman. “I really am sorry, you know.” Cassandra let out a sigh, her anger replaced with docile acceptance. “I know. You did what you had to do. Besides, you almost believe, sort of.” Cassidy smiled a bit. “It’s complicated.”

“You are not upset that I hit you?” Cassandra asked, putting her sword and whetstone away. Cassidy shook her head. “No, I understand where you’re coming from. I’m not sure I would have done the same, but I might have done something similar. Either way, no, I’m not upset.” Cassandra seemed relieved. “I am glad. I do not wish to cause a rift between us. I consider you a friend.”

“If you two are going to talk about the magic of friendship, I’m going for a walk,” Varric shouldered Bianca. “I’ll be back in an hour or so.” Cassidy snorted, amused. “Have fun, short stack.” Cassandra just let out her trademark disgusted grunt.

Cassidy shook her head with a smile and got back to the conversation at hand. “I consider you a friend too, Cassandra. You put up with a lot of shit from me.” Cassandra smiled slightly. “That is certainly true.” Cassidy pushed her playfully, “you’re supposed to deny it!” “What would be the point of that? We both know it to be true.”

Cassidy laughed as she put another log on the fire. “You’re a real piece of work.” Cassandra raised her eyebrow. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Is that not a phrase here? I meant it as an endearment. It’s sarcasm almost. Kind of. See, it started out as an insult, but insults can be used as endearments if you want them to be. Kind of like, you’re terrible.” Cassandra stared at her for a moment, then covered her mouth, laughing quietly. “You are strange.” Cassidy grinned.

Cassandra leaned back, bracing her weight on her hands. “I have a question for you. I don’t really have many… girlish conversations. I suppose now is a good opportunity.” Cassidy nodded, “go for it. Girl talks are important.” Cassandra asked, “what is your idea of a dream romance? You know, like in the novels.” Cassidy tilted her head, “you read romance novels?” Cassandra scowled, blushing furiously. “Just answer the question.”

So Cassandra was a romantic. Good to know.

Cassidy thought on that for a moment. “I’m not sure. I don’t think about that sort of thing much, not since I was younger. I suppose I like a few kinds of romances. My first relationship was very sweet. Oh,” Cassidy smiled at the memory, “she was just an angel, we were more of best friend than lovers, really, but between all that, we held hands, we kissed occasionally, just kids learning to love, you know? It only ended because of distance, with me going military and all, but we’re still friends. But that’s irrelevant. So I guess sweet romances. Tender, real, intimate, intense without society’s idea of intensity. Am I making sense? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I also love sex, but if we’re talking romance, it’s not all about sex.”

Cassandra had a dreamy look about her. “That does sound wonderful,” she commented. “So you prefer the company of women?” Cassidy shrugged, “I go either way. For me, it depends on the person. What about you?” Cassandra looked at the fire. “I have always thought I preferred the company of men, but recently I met someone who has made me think I might make an exception.” Cassidy raised an eyebrow. “Oh? A lucky woman, then.” Cassandra cleared her throat. “It will probably never happen. She is very busy, as am I.”

Cassidy changed the subject. “What’s your ideal romance then?” Cassandra practically lit up. “Oh goodness, I just love the novel ideal, with the candles and the flowers and poetry, the begging at the balcony, sneaking out late at night; I want someone to sweep me off my feet!” She clasped her hands together at her chest, laying back in the pine needles. She sighed dreamily. “Someone to hold me and tell me I’m beautiful, to dance with by a fireplace, to surprise me with little gifts; someone for me to fawn over and completely dedicate myself to, someone I absolutely adore. And even if we fought, we’d end every fight with a kiss!”

Cassidy was grinning. “You sound like the perfect lover.” Cassandra looked over at her. “You think so?” Cassidy nodded. “Who wouldn’t want to end every fight with a kiss? It seems like a brilliant way to resolve conflict.” She liked this side of Cassandra. It was nice to see the stern and stoic warrior melt away into a hopeless romantic who wanted nothing more than to love someone with everything she had.

Cassidy felt her heart flutter, in the same way it did whenever she was with Cullen at the stables. Perhaps nothing would come of it, but there was nothing wrong with having a crush.

“Well,” Cassidy stated. “Anyone too busy for you is a fool, and that’s that.”


	10. When the Past Catches You

“I’m going with you, and that’s final.” Cullen’s voice was polite, but firm. “Those are my men as well, and I will personally see them rescued. I won’t leave everything up to the Herald.”

He was speaking of the group of soldiers being held hostage in the Fallow Mire by a group of Avaar. Originally, there had been protests to him going, but he wouldn’t be gone long, and a native Ferelden on such treacherous land would be a good thing to have. Sera, recently recruited, had refused to go anywhere near the village that had been there, and Cullen couldn’t blame her. It had fallen to plague within the last couple of years, and there was no one left. The place was abandoned, except for the Avaar apparently.

“Fine,” Cassandra conceded. “We will only be gone a week at most. Who else should we bring?” She asked Cassidy, who looked thoughtful. “I asked Vivienne, who said she would go, but she seemed very reluctant.” “I would imagine that the swamp is adverse to Madame De Fer’s tastes,” Josephine commented. “Perhaps for your return to the Hinterlands she can be of assistance instead. Besides, I would like her here for now. She is well known among the Orlesian nobility, as well as the Circle of Magi. I want to start making use of those connections as soon as possible.”

“Why not just the three of us?” Cullen suggested. “If it’s just the Avaar in some abandoned swamp and all they want is a duel, we should be more than sufficient. If we come across a rift, we should be able to handle it.” “Is that wise?” Leliana asked. “You may come across unexpected resistance. My scouts report undead sightings in the area.” Cassandra shrugged, “undead are numerous, but they fall easily. If your scouts are there, we should be fine.” Cassidy disagreed. “We may come across magical barriers of some sort. We should bring a mage. I will ask Solas.” Cullen sighed quietly, but nodded. “Alright. We’ll leave in the morning.”

* * *

“Thank you, Harding,” Cassidy said when the dwarf finished her report. They had been in the area for a couple of hours and Cullen was already tired of the rain. Cassandra was also crankier than usual. Even Solas was exceptionally prickly. Only Cassidy seemed unaffected by the constant rain.

“They’ve been out here all this time and they’ve only made it as far as Fisher’s End?” Cassandra grumbled. Cassidy shrugged, “you heard them. Undead are everywhere, and there are several rifts. We’ll just have to watch our step. According to Harding, the Undead come out more if we disturb the water, so let’s try and stay on land as much as possible.” “If there’s land to stay on,” Cullen ran his fingers through his drenched hair. Cassidy rolled her eyes and smiled encouragingly. “Could be worse. It could be a desert. Just change your socks. Let’s get moving.”

They passed through Fisher’s End. The town was abandoned, and there was clear evidence of plague. Burn pits littered the outskirts and the whole place stank with more than the stench of the bog. They didn’t linger long, heading deeper into the bog, trying to stay on the elevated paths. So far, they had yet to see undead. Cullen hoped their luck would hold.

Making their way through the muck was exhausting, and a slow process. Solas had the easiest time, not weighed down with any armor, but even he struggled. After hours, they could still see Fisher’s end in the distance. Cullen was grateful that Cassidy had insisted he pack extra socks. “We should look for a good place to camp soon,” he commented. There were nods of agreement, but no one made an effort to look. Perhaps they would end up sleeping where they stood.

“What is that?” Cassandra pointed to an obelisk on a hill. There was a brazier on it. When they reached the hill, the ground grew sturdier beneath their feet, and they didn’t have to struggle to walk again. Cullen’s aching legs were grateful.

They approached the obelisk, shaking the rain off. It was pointless to shake the rain off. There was just more to replace it. But it made them feel better, if only for a moment. Even Cassidy was growing weary under the rain now. They were all soaked through. They took a moment to rest, then Solas inspected the monument. “This is a veilfire brazier,” he stated. “Shall I light it? There may be a rune nearby.” Cullen looked to Cassidy, since he saw her as leading the whole excursion. She nodded.

Solas lit the brazier. Suddenly, the water around the hill bubbled, and the screech of a demon was heard. Cullen’s blood ran cold as he recognized the wavers in the ground beneath Cassandra as the magic of a terror demon. “Look out!” He tackled her out of the way just as it jumped up, slashing at where she had been. They tumbled down the hill, barreling into an undead corpse crawling out of the water.

Cullen scrambled to his feet and drew his sword, killing the undead. He pulled Cassandra to her feet. “Are you alright?” Cassandra nodded, drawing her sword. They got their shields and pushed back up the hill. Cassandra went after the terror demon that Solas was engaged with battling. Cullen saw Cassidy facing several corpses out of the corner of his eye. He figured she could handle them, so he started to go for the demon, until he realized Cassidy wasn’t attacking the undead.

He turned to look at her fully. She had a look of unbridled horror on her face as the corpses shambled towards her. Was she afraid? That had never stopped her before. He ran for her, “Cassidy!” It seemed to snap her out of being frozen, but she stumbled back instead, falling onto her rear. One of the corpses raised a rusted, weed-riddled sword, ready to bring it down on her. Cullen bashed his shield into it just in time. He made quick work of the others.

Cassandra and Solas were keeping the terror demon distracted, so Cullen turned to Cassidy, and recognized what was happening immediately. It had happened to him a number of times, after what had happened at Kinloch Hold. She was having a panic attack. Cullen took a moment to drive his sword through another undead, then kick it down the hill. “Cassidy, listen to me,” he tried his best to keep his voice even. “They’re practically harmless. Look,” he sent one rolling with a swing of his shield. “They’re weak. They can’t hurt you unless you let them. Cassidy, slow your breathing.”

The terror demon fell to Cassandra’s sword, and the undead stopped coming. “These demons must be causing the undead to rise,” Solas mused. “If we light other beacons and kill the demons, we can make this area safe again.” Cassandra nodded in agreement. Cullen wasn’t listening. He sheathed his sword and put his shield aside, then he knelt in front of Cassidy, who had her hands over her ears. He gently pulled her hands away, “Cassidy. Look at me.” She looked up, her eyes wide. He opened his mouth to reiterate that they were harmless, but what she said instead chilled him.

“I _knew_ them.” She whispered it at first, but then she shouted it. “I KNEW them! They died, in _my_ world. Why are they _here_?!” She broke into hysterical sobs, and understandably so. “I watched them die, I was about to die with them, and I ended up here instead.” She devolved into whispering unintelligibly between sobs, her tears indistinguishable with the rain.

“There’s an old cabin just down the path, perhaps we could see if it’s a good place to rest for the night?” Solas suggested quietly. Cullen nodded. He kept his focus on Cassidy. Her mark was flashing about wildly. He doubted it was dangerous, merely reacting to her emotions, but he couldn’t be too careful. “Cassidy, they’re gone, and you’re here now. You need to slow your breathing. Look at me, Cassidy, hey. Hey.” He spoke to her in soft tones, touching her face gently, anything to try and ground her. He was vaguely aware of Cassandra and Solas picking their way down the hill and a little further down the trail to where an abandoned cabin stood, looking sturdy enough. Hopefully it wasn’t half-submerged, Maker willing.

Cassidy was starting to calm down. She leaned her head back, cradled in Cullen’s gloved hand, and closed her eyes. Cullen watched the rain fall on her face. He knew exactly how she felt. Demons had taunted him with images of his dead friends come to life, and that had been a nightmare.

With her head leaned back and her hair being pushed back by the rain instead of forward like she usually kept it, he saw the small downward point of her hair in the middle of her forehead. “You have a dragon’s tooth,” he commented. “A what?” She asked lazily, not bothering to even open her eyes. Of course, he didn’t blame her. Panic attacks were exhausting. “A dragon’s tooth. The little point of hair that comes down in the middle of your forehead, like a V.”

She smiled, lifting her head back up. His hand slid to her cheek, and he didn’t even think to move it. “You mean a widow’s peak?” Cullen chuckled, “that must be what they call it in your world. Here, it’s a dragon’s tooth.” “I think I like that better.” She commented, leaning into his hand. His thumb brushed along her cheek, and for a moment, he absently wished he weren’t wearing gloves. As it was, the rain had soaked through the leather.

“Thank you, Cullen.” She gazed up at him. “I mean it. Thank you. I…” She looked to the side. “Fuck. I’ve been ignoring it. I don’t know how to deal with it.” “Neither do I,” Cullen said. “But I’m here for you, if you need to talk about it. I understand. I’ve watched people I care for die. I know how hard it can be. In the Circle Tower in Ferelden, my first station, there was an abomination, blood mage, and demon takeover. It got messy. They slaughtered my friends and tortured me. It was…” He shuddered at the memory. “It was horrible. I still don’t think I’ve fully dealt with it. Maker, I haven’t even really talked about it.”

She put her hand over his. “I’m here for you too.” He smiled. “Thank you.” He stood, pulling his hand from her face. He felt rather cold without it. “Come on,” he pulled her to her feet. “Let’s get out of the rain.” She nodded, “good idea. I’m getting sick of it.” Cullen smiled, “I thought you liked rain? You haven’t complained yet.” “You three were complaining enough. What good would it have done?”

“It makes you feel better.” Cullen stated, picking his way down the hill. Cassidy grinned. “That it does. In that case, FUCK this MUD. I’m so fucking tired of mud.” “Is that language really necessary?” Cassandra stood in the doorway of the abandoned cabin, waiting for them. “You bet your ass it is,” Cassidy shook the mud from her boots as much as she could, bracing her hand against the wall and waving her leg about wildly. Cullen stomped on a stone in hopes of getting mud off. Cassidy went inside, “finally, out of the damn rain!”

“How is she?” Cassandra asked quietly when Cassidy was out of earshot. “She’ll be alright,” Cullen responded. “I’ll keep an eye on her.” Cassandra had a softer look on her face than he was used to. She looked deeply concerned. Cullen knew the two had grown close during their travels; he had grown rather close to their Herald as well. He was even developing an attraction for her.

She was unusual, it was true. She was brash and vulgar at times. She certainly wasn’t ladylike. Some would even find her rather intolerable. She was very lost in their world. But she had a gentle side to her, she had put aside her personal strife to help them, and Cullen had grown to like her uniqueness very much. She wasn’t particularly beautiful, as far as physical attractiveness. Not like the princesses in fairytales. She didn’t have much shape to her body, but she was muscular, and had a rather nice rear. Not that he spent much time staring; he had simply noticed. Her short hair was almost too short for her face, and understated her features. Her eyes, though, her eyes were captivating. He had grown to adore them. Still, though she wasn’t beautiful by conventional standards, he found that he was attracted to her. He liked the muscle. He liked the practicality of cropped hair. He liked the gentle curves of her face. He liked _her._ It was unfortunate that he doubted he’d be able to pursue such things, or develop his affections further. They were both very busy, with the world ending and all, and they were both rather broken inside.

Cullen shook his head to clear it. Cassandra put a hand on his shoulder. “Are _you_ alright, Cullen? I know your withdrawals have been getting worse.” Cassandra, the woman he would probably consider his best friend, if he had to pick one. He trusted her with his life, and with the task of ending it, should he become a danger to anyone else. He trusted her to make that decision.

“Yes. I think this is actually helping. Not this infernal rain, but being out here, fighting, getting away for a while, I don’t really know how to describe it, but this is helping. Breaking out of a routine for a few days is a good breather. I’ll be better for it when we return.” Cullen ducked inside the shelter of the cabin. Cassandra followed and they wedged the door shut.

Fortunately, the cabin floor was dry. Solas and Cassidy had already stripped their wet outer layers off and had hung them up to dry. It was a good thing Ferelden was cold and multiple layers had been warm. Cullen unbuckled his armor and set it aside. He took off his outer layers as well, hanging them up on old fishing lines to hopefully dry out some. He pulled off his boots and socks as well. The wood floor was cold beneath his bare feet, but it was dry, thank the Maker.

Cassandra laid out bedrolls while Cassidy pulled out rations for them. Solas set up some wards. Such places had already attracted demons. Warding was a good idea. Cullen took a moment to wipe the gore off of his sword.

For the moment, they were safe, and everything was okay.


	11. Blue Bloodlust

Cassandra woke to the gentle shuffling and soft murmur of Solas waking Cassidy for her watch. She cracked open one eye, watching Cassidy sit up. Cullen was snoring softly on the other side of the Herald. Solas laid down on the far side of Cullen and was soon asleep.

Cassidy rubbed her eyes, then stretched her arms above her head. She got up out of her roll and ambled over to where their stuff was. Cassandra wondered what she needed in there for a watch. She heard the soft clinking of bottles and spotted the gentle blue glow of lyrium.

Was Cassidy taking lyrium outside of combat?

Cassidy put a bottle to her lips and leaned her head back, downing the lyrium. She let out a soft sigh and hid the bottle away. Cassandra scowled. They would have to talk about this. For now, she wouldn’t wake the others. She also would try to keep Cullen out of it. It wouldn’t do him any good to worry.

It was worrying though; Cassandra was concerned that Cassidy was using lyrium as a crutch to deal with what had happened with the undead the day before. That sort of addiction was more dangerous than the Herald probably realized. Cassandra had to nip this at the bud, if she could.

She hoped she could.

* * *

Eventually, after several days of trudging through the bog, they made it to the keep where the Avaar were waiting for them. They had met one of the Avaar a ways back, though that particular one had no interest in fighting them, and was even impressed when they closed a rift. Amund the Sky Watcher, he was called. Cassandra was wary of him, but he seemed to be more interested in the skies than them.

“Run! We won’t be able to fight them all!” The path leading to the keep was swarmed with undead, and they just kept coming. Cullen lead the way, his shield up to knock the shambling corpses aside. Cassidy followed him, and Solas followed her, with Cassandra bringing up the rear. Fortunately, the ground was a bit more solid here. They ran through the gates of the outer keep. The pulley switch for the gate was just inside, so Cullen closed the portcullis right behind them, locking out the undead.

Avaar were on them in an instant. Not the main group of them, just those holding the outer keep, mostly archers up on the stable roof. Cassandra and Cullen formed a small shield wall, where Solas was safe while he launched ice at the archers. Cassidy fought the two mabari on the ground, and seemed to be holding her own just fine. She almost seemed used to fighting dogs. Cassandra watched as she bashed one with her shield and shoved her sword down the throat of the other, earning a sickening yelp and a spout of gore. She yanked her sword from the beast and turned on the other, making quick work of it.

Solas had dispatched the remaining archers by then. Cassandra did a quick sweep for any remaining lurkers, and declared the area safe for now. Cullen and Cassidy were kneeling beside one of the dead mabari, talking quietly. Cassandra edged closer to hear the conversation.

“… just doing what they were told. Such good dogs,” Cassidy was saying. Cullen nodded solemnly. “You’ve fought dogs before?” He asked. “Yes,” Cassidy said. “We have wardogs where I come from too. Sometimes they’re like this, just attack dogs. Sometimes they’re trackers and sniffers, they look for drugs or bombs or people, and sometimes they strap bombs to the dogs and send them running at whatever they want to blow up.”

“That’s terrible,” Cassandra knelt next to them. “Strapping a bomb to a dog? Who would do such a thing?” Cassidy laughed a bit, shaking her head. Cassandra thought her laughter was rather sick, until she saw the haunted look on her face.

Cassandra let the matter drop.

“It would seem we are safe for now. Shall we rest for a bit?” Solas asked, returning from warding the gate to drive the undead away. “Just for a moment,” Cassandra stated firmly. “We are almost there. The inner keep is just up the hill, and the ground should be solid from here. We do not want to risk the lives of our soldiers by waiting too much longer.” Cullen nodded in agreement.

Cassandra sat in the shelter of the stable. There were no horses there, but it was dry and the hay was soft. Cassidy sat down next to her, making an effort to wipe some blood off her cheek, but it only smeared. “You would do better to stand in the rain and let it wash off,” Cassandra suggested. Cassidy chuckled, “not like it will matter. I’ll get covered in more soon enough, if the Avaar get their way.”

“Are you nervous?” Cassandra asked. “The Avaar are rather formidable. Do you plan on accepting the duel?” Cassidy shrugged. “Nah, I’m not that nervous. Maybe a little excitable, but I wouldn’t say nervous. I think I will accept the duel. We don’t know how many of them there will be. Besides, with the lyrium, I definitely have a good chance of beating the bastard.” Cassandra wrinkled her nose. “About that-“

“We should get moving.” Cullen interrupted them. His hair had escaped the confines of the gel he used, with all the rain and the humidity of the bog, and had grown ridiculously curly, and had bits of mud and leaves stuck in it. It was rather comical, and Cassandra tried not to smile looking at him. He noticed. “Oh, not a word from you. You’re not looking much better. We’re all covered in mud.”

“Now I see why Varric calls you Curly,” Cassidy was grinning. Cullen rolled his eyes. “Maker’s breath, not you too.” Cassidy laughed, “don’t worry, Cullen, we’re all looking pretty rough. Hell, I look like a greased weasel, with my hair slicked back like this. Cassandra’s queen of the poof; the braid is barely holding. Solas, well, he always looks like a hobo. He definitely could use a bath though.” She got to her feet and offered Cassandra a hand. Cassandra took it, smiling with amusement, and stood.

They made their way up the hill, and despite saying she wasn’t nervous, Cassidy seemed to be a little jumpy. Cassandra couldn’t blame her. The Sky Watcher had been rather large and intimidating, with his massive war hammer. With her past experience with the massive hammers, Cassandra couldn’t blame Cassidy for being a little nervous if this Avaar also ended up having one.

They entered the keep. Several Avaar surrounded them. Not as many as Cassandra expected, but they were still outnumbered three to one. The leader, clearly the one who had wanted to fight, lifted his giant hammer over his head and let out a thunderous cry. “Fan-fuckin-tastic,” Cassidy muttered. She reached for her belt and downed a vial of lyrium. Cassandra didn’t say anything. In this case, it was warranted.

Cassidy stepped forward. “You’re the Avaar who wanted to challenge me?” “You offend the Lady of the Skies by claiming yourself a Herald of this Andraste! I must kill you for your crime!” The Avaar charged her. Cassandra went for her sword, but Cullen put a hand on her arm, stopping her. “If you do that, the others will join. Let’s keep this a duel as long as possible.”

Cassidy side-stepped away from the hammer coming down. It hit the ground with a resonating thud, cracking the stone floor of the crumbling hall. The moon illuminated the fight. Cassandra was anxious. Cassidy wasn’t trained well enough, she wasn’t going to win! Cassandra itched to join, but Cullen was right. If the other Avaar joined before the leader was killed, they’d be overwhelmed for certain.

“Be calm, Seeker. Have faith in her,” Solas’s voice reached her ears. “The lyrium sings in her veins, and focuses her own rage. She is a formidable force of her own.” Cassandra’s breath hitched as Cassidy stepped away from another blow. She had yet to strike. She was walking circles around the Avaar, her face set, her jaw clenched. She heard Cullen whispering softly to himself and realized he was praying.

She sent up a silent prayer of her own.

The Avaar cheered, filling the hall with a thunderous roar. They cheered for their leader, known as Hand of Korth. “You are so tiny, Herald of a false god,” the Avaar taunted, bringing his hammer down again. Again, Cassidy side-stepped. “Strike, coward!” He bellowed, swinging his hammer around. She easily stepped out of range. Cassandra was growing frustrated. “Why does she not fight? She is at her strongest right now.” Cullen leaned closer and murmured in her ear, “she’s wearing him down first. It was my suggestion. If he goes down in one blow, we may not have to fight the others.” That made sense. Cassandra grunted, “well why didn’t you tell me before?”

Cullen looked a little smug. “Cassidy knew it would frustrate you.” “Oh that little brat!”

The Avaar brought his hammer down over and over, swinging it about frantically, not bothering to hold back any energy. Cassidy’s silent taunting was working. He was huffing at that point. There was a brief pause where he let his hammer rest on the ground, and Cassidy made her move. She darted forward and stomped on his wrist, earning a howl and making the one hand release the hammer. She bashed her shield into his face, cracking the skull helmet the Avaar wore. That sent him reeling back.

“Come on,” Cassandra muttered quietly, “do it now!”

Cassidy drove her sword through the man’s throat. She had won the fight. The cheering of the other Avaar fell silent. Cassandra held her breath, praying that they would accept the defeat with honour.

They did not. Their silence turned to howls of rage, and weapons were drawn. Cassandra drew her sword and brandished her shield, racing to defend Cassidy’s back as arrows flew. She was not fast enough, for Cassidy’s plate looked similar to a quillback by the time Cassandra reached her. They stood facing away from each other, defending the other’s back. Cassidy never faltered, despite the arrows sticking out of her.

Cassandra didn’t falter either, cutting down man after man, even after she took a club to the head, barely softened by her shield catching the arm that wielded it. She could feel the hot blood dripping down her face.

“Herald! Seeker! Shields above your head!” Solas’s voice shouted over the fray. Cassandra could barely understand him, and didn’t have time to process it as she took a hard blow from one of the Avaar, sending her stumbling back. She tried to stop herself, worried she would fall into Cassidy’s back. Instead, she found that Cassidy had turned to face her. Cassidy put an arm around Cassandra, squeezing her close, and lifted her shield over their heads.

Fire rained down around them, and the Avaar burned. Cassandra pulled her feet under her so they wouldn’t be caught in the magic inferno. When it ended, there were only a few Avaar left, three with shields whom had been lucky enough to hear Solas’s warning. Cassandra raised her sword, but the very effort sent her reeling.

“Cassandra!” Cullen came running towards them, taking her from Cassidy’s arm. Cassidy turned to the remaining Avaar, shaking cinders from her shield. Cassandra recognized the look on her face, the blue ring around the edges of her green irises, and it made her blood run cold. She had seen it on the faces of Templar recruits sent into battle too soon after starting lyrium. They called it lyrium-induced excessive aggression, though it was nicknamed “blue bloodlust.” It was known to be practically insatiable. They sent those Templars after particularly vicious maleficarum, those sentenced to death, and never put them in Circle stations. They also limited their lyrium doses.

“Cassandra, hey,” Cullen’s gloved hands were on her face, then Solas was kneeling on her other side, his cold fingers hovering over her head wound as he used his healing magic, but Cassandra’s eyes were on Cassidy. She slaughtered the Avaar ruthlessly, even as they begged for their lives.

“Cassandra,” Cullen’s voice finally caught her attention, and Cassandra was aware of the uncomfortable sensation of the magic stitching her flesh back together. “Cassandra, can you hear me?” Cullen’s face was twisted with fear and worry. “Yes, I can hear you. I will be alright. Cassidy-“

“I’m here.” Cassidy knelt beside Cullen and took Cassandra’s hand. Even through their gauntlets, Cassandra could feel the warmth. The blue ring in her eyes was gone, and so was the expression. Had Cassandra imagined it?

The surprise on Cullen’s face said that she had not. Cassandra sat up a bit, earning a scowl from Solas. “Cassidy, they had surrendered,” she scolded. Cassidy frowned. “You’re here on the ground with your head bashed in, and they wouldn’t have, had fire not rained down and burned the rest of them. The gutless cowards attacked because their leader lost a fairly fought duel. They would have killed you, killed all of us, given half a chance. They did not deserve to live.” So the bloodlust had been induced because she was angry. At least it could be controlled then.

Still, Cassandra was concerned that Cassidy was in over her head.

“Be still, Seeker. This injury is not life-threatening, but it will be if it swells. You must let me finish healing it. It will take some time. Would you mind laying down?” Solas’s tone was patient and his expression neutral. Cassandra laid back. Cullen pulled a fur coat off of one of the Avaar and nestled it under her head. “Cassidy,” he said, “no doubt they’ll have had the soldiers under lock and key. See if you can find the key. I’ll locate the soldiers. They can’t be far.” Cullen then noticed Cassidy had arrows sticking out of her back. "Maker's breath, why didn't you say anything?" Cassidy shrugged, "Solas is busy, and it doesn't hurt yet, with the lyrium. Besides, the chainmail mostly stopped them. They aren't in deep. Help me pull them out?"

Cassandra closed her eyes and let out a slow breath. There was so much uncertainty about the whole Inquisition. She prayed that it would turn out alright in the end, Maker willing.


	12. Delirious

Cassidy sat on a rock, overlooking the crashing waves below, turning over a bouquet of flowers in her hand. She was rather exhausted. They were at the Storm Coast in northern Ferelden. They had hired the mercenary group, Bull’s Chargers, she had made friends with The Iron Bull, they had recruited the Blades of Hesserian, and they had closed all the rifts along the treacherous shore. Now, she just wanted to sit and gaze at the sea. It gave her a sense of peace.

“You good, Badger?” Varric came up to stand beside her, glancing at her face before looking out at the sea as well. “Yeah,” Cassidy smiled a bit. “Just watching the water. It’s pretty, you know? I like the ocean. Well, I guess this is a sea, not an ocean, but it’s close enough. Still got the salty smell.” Cassidy took a deep breath. The salt clung to her skin, the damp air making her hair stick to her face. It was growing longer, fringing her ears and touching her eyebrows.

“Well, I’m glad someone enjoys it. The sea makes me feel queasy,” Varric wrinkled his nose. Cassidy laughed a bit. “I used to have a good friend who would say the same thing. Didn’t even like walking on the beach. He hated the smell of it, too. Got sick of the sand, the salt, everything. Didn’t even like seashells all that much. He just hated the ocean.” Varric grinned, “sounds like my kind of guy.”

There was a brief pause before Varric commented, “that’s quite the eye-catching bouquet you have there.” Cassidy looked down at her lap, where her hand curled around a bouquet of Prophet’s Laurel with a Black Lotus nestled in the center. She smiled a bit. “Just something to thank a friend.” Varric gave her a knowing look and a wry smile. “I think she’ll like it.”

Cassidy stood. “We should get going. I bet Vivienne is just about tired of this place. The rocks can’t be easy on her feet.” Varric shrugged, “she’s the one who insisted on heels. At least she didn’t wear the tall ones she usually does.” Cassidy followed him down the trail back to the forward camp, where Vivienne and Cassandra waited for them. Vivienne gave her the usual graceful smile. “Are you ready, dear?” “I am, Madame. Let’s head back to Haven.” Cassidy gave Cassandra a smile as well. “I bet you’re happy to get out of the rain, after this and the mire.” Cassandra gave her a half-smile. “Yes. The snow will not seem so bad.”

Cassidy let Varric and Vivienne walk ahead. She got Cassandra’s attention and casually passed her the bouquet while they walked through the treacherous rocky terrain to the lowlands where their horses waited on more stable ground. “Here, for you.” Cassandra took the flowers, and Cassidy was melted by the look of delight that crossed the Seeker’s face. “For me?” Cassidy nodded. “I said they were, didn’t I?” Cassandra put her free hand to her mouth. “They’re beautiful.”

Cassidy hadn’t expected such a wonderful reaction. It was more than she could have hoped for.

“Thank you,” Cassandra’s hazel eyes were brimming with emotion. Cassidy felt the heat rising to her face. “Of course,” she averted her gaze, feeling shy. “You deserve the most beautiful flowers.” She felt like it was a stupid thing to say as soon as the words were out of her mouth. Cassandra reached for Cassidy’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Thank you, Cassidy. I love them.”

“Are you two coming or not?” Varric shouted from farther up the trail. “The rain will only pick up, dear.” Vivienne’s voice was urging them to hurry up. Cassidy rolled her eyes and jogged up the trail with a grin on her face, Cassandra following close behind.

* * *

They reached Haven in a day and a half. Cassidy led Rhona to the stables, telling her she was a good girl the whole way. She started to untack her horse when Cullen poked his head in. “I’m sorry to pull you away so soon, but Leliana and Josephine want to have a meeting in the war room as soon as possible, and it’s already late in the evening. They don’t want to wait until the morning.”

Cassidy reluctantly passed Rhona over to a stable hand. “At least let me ditch my armor.” Cullen gave her a sympathetic look as she approached. “How was the coast?” He asked. “Cassandra looked happy coming back. That’s unusual for her. I assume things went well?” Cassidy grinned. “Yeah, we hired the mercenaries, you’ve probably met them by now, and we recruited the Bldes of Hesserian. Cassandra’s probably happy because of the flowers.” Cullen raised his eyebrows. “You picked flowers for her?” Cassidy nodded. “She puts her heart and soul into this Inquisition. I felt like she deserved something to lift her spirits.” She headed into her cabin and stripped out of her armor quickly. She would worry about hanging it later. She put on a coat over her tunic and leggings and pulled some fur boots on. “Alright, let’s go.”

Cullen smiled a bit and held the Chantry door for her. They entered the war room together, and Cassidy put on a serious expression.

“We could petition the Templars with the help of the nobility,” Josephine was saying, “but that will take a lot of time, effort, and favours. We already have an invitation to meet with the mages in Redcliffe. Though it may not be the most popular decision, popularity doesn’t matter as much as closing the Breach.” Cassidy approached the table, standing next to Cassandra, who greeted her with a polite nod.

“I agree,” Leliana stated. “We stand a better chance of closing the Breach with the mages’ help.” “We also stand a better chance of killing the Herald,” Cullen commented. “I still disagree. I know what the Templars can do. Besides, you said so yourself, Cassandra, something is going on with them. We should look into it.”

“What do you think?” Cassandra asked Cassidy, and eyes turned to her. Cassidy sighed. “Going after the Templars will take time, and we’re already on borrowed time. Josephine is right. The mages are already willing to talk to us. I say we should go to them first. Cullen is right in that we should look into what is going on with the Templars, but the Breach is our priority here. We need to take care of it first. The Templars will wait.”

Cullen nodded grimly. The others nodded with approval. Cassandra stated, “we will rest here tomorrow, then leave for Redcliffe the next morning.” Cassidy was relieved. At least they would have a day of rest.

“A few other things I would like to bring to your attention, before we depart…” Josephine directed their attention to the map.

* * *

A few hours later, Cassidy stepped out into the frigid air of nighttime Haven. Cassandra passed by her. “Goodnight, Cassidy.” The Seeker offered her a slight smile. Cassidy returned it. “Goodnight, Cassandra. See you tomorrow.” Cassandra headed for the stables. Of course, her stuff would still be there, since they had jumped right into the meeting. Cassidy figured her own things would still be there as well.

Cassidy nearly fell forward when someone bumped into her. “Shit!” She managed to keep her balance and turned. Cullen was looking startled. “Cassidy! Maker, my deepest apologies! I…” Cassidy shook her head, “it’s fine, we’re all tired.” Something seemed off about him. Perhaps his withdrawals were getting to him? Cassidy sort of understood, though she had chosen not to deal with them. She felt somewhat guilty about it, but she didn’t want to think on it.

“Let me walk you to your tent.” She offered. Cullen merely nodded. He looked awfully pale. She walked next to him, her arm brushing his, silently offering support if he needed it. The lyrium song was a comfort in the back of her mind, and she could only imagine how disoriented he was without it, after spending most of his life listening to its sweet music. She could see the sweat dripping down his face, despite the cold, and the distant look in his wide pupils.

They had just passed her cabin when his legs crumpled beneath him. She caught him, grunting beneath his weight. “Hey, Cullen, easy now,” she bit her lip. She doubted he would want his men to see him like this, and though it was night, it wasn’t so late that some wouldn’t be up. Besides, she wasn’t liking the idea of hauling him down the hill. So she pulled him into her own cabin.

“Maker,” he mumbled, seemingly delirious. Though he was sweaty, his skin was cold to the touch. She laid him on the rug by the hearth and stoked the fire that was already burning there. Fortunately, someone had brought her pack up from the stables. She pulled her water skin from it. “Stay with me, Cullen.” She lifted his head onto her lap and held the water skin to his lips. “Here. Drink this. Come on, drink.” He swallowed, most of it spilling down his front. He leaned his head back, groaning. “Maker, it hurts.”

Her heart ached for him. She brushed her fingers gently over his cheek, then rubbed his temples. “Cullen,” she whispered, unsure of what to do. What could she do? He just had to ride the lightning, she knew that. Wait it out. He’d make it through. He had to.

He rolled onto his side and balled his fists in her tunic, his face scrunching up in pain. She gently massaged his head, running her fingers through his hair. “It’s going to be alright,” she whispered, not wanting to be too loud in case he was noise sensitive. “I’m right here. I’ve got you. You can make it through this.” This was awful, but at least he wasn’t dying. She never wanted to comfort a dying man again.

“Maker,” Cullen lolled his head to the side, looking up at her, his eyes barely able to focus. “You? I can make it. It’s not so bad. Maker’s breath, it hurts, it burns! It _burns!_ ” He groaned, just below a shout, his voice catching in his throat. He rolled back onto his back. One hand reached up, and his clammy palm rested against her cheek. “You. You don’t burn.” He grinned, then his face twisted in agony. His hand dropped to rest on the back of her neck, and he tugged on her. She leaned forward as much as she could, though flexibility was not her strong suit. “Cassidy, make it stop.” He begged. She tried to soothe him, “I wish I could. I have some elfroot, if you want it, Cullen. Do you want some?”

“Cassidy,” he was delirious. He looked like he was dizzy, unable to focus on any one thing. “Cassidy, I think I love you.” Cassidy’s heart skipped a beat. She shook her head. “Cullen, do you need more water?” She tried to sit up straight to reach for the water or the pouch she kept the elfroot in, but his grip on her was firm. “No, don’t go!” He pleaded. “I’m not, I promise. I’m just going to get you something to help with the pain.” Cassidy murmured. His golden eyes glittered in the firelight, brimming with agony. It broke her heart.

“Cassidy,” he pulled on her more. She winced. “I can’t bend forward any more, Cullen.” She told him gently. He hissed, then let out a grunt of pain. He sat up and leaned on her, wrapping his arms around her waist and laying his head on her shoulder. “I am in love with you,” he mumbled. Her heart was pounding. She could feel him trembling. She hugged him, rocking him gently. “You’re going to be okay, Cullen.” She didn’t want to say anything she might regret. He wasn’t in the right state of mind, after all. There was a strong possibility that he was just latching onto her as a grounding point in his delirium.

“You don’t feel the same way.” He squeezed gently. The fur of the mantle he wore tickled Cassidy’s face. “I didn’t say that, Cullen.” She gulped. “I care for you deeply. But you’re sick right now, you're not thinking straight, and I won’t take advantage of that.” Cullen laughed softly. “You think I’m talking nonsense. You’re probably right. I’m a bumbling fool when it comes to these things. I could never just outright tell you unless there was something wrong with me. Am I even saying what I'm trying to? I can hardly tell. I think it's getting better. The pain is not as strong.” He sighed, holding her close. Her back was beginning to ache, sitting like that, but she didn’t want to move, not right when his withdrawal episode was beginning to fade.

The fire hissed and crackled, then with a loud pop, the logs collapsed, sending a wave of warmth through the room. Cullen stiffened for a moment, then relaxed again. “It comes in waves,” he explained. “I think that was a bad one. Maker’s breath, I’m exhausted.” He was rambling. “You and Cassandra, you… she cares for you, you know that, don’t you? Of course you know that. You care for her too. You gave her flowers. You’re close. We’re close, she and I. She keeps an eye on me. She’s supposed to replace me if I can’t effectively perform my duties. Or if I go mad, she’s supposed to… you know. This, quitting lyrium, it’s awful. I don’t even know if it’s the right thing to do, but I don’t want to be leashed to the Templars anymore. I don’t want… I don’t want… Maker. I can’t even think.” Cassidy could feel him gripping her shirt in his fists.

“It’s alright, Cullen.” She hushed him. “Don’t try too hard to think. Just rest. Do you want to stay here? It’ll be cold in your tent. I don’t mind sleeping on the floor.” He shook his head, “no, I don’t want to kick you out of your own bed. I’ll be alright.” He started to make an effort to stand, but barely got to his knees before he keeled over, bracing his hands on the floor and gasping for air. “ _Maker,_ my head hurts.”

Cassidy made him sit and unbuckled his armor. She pulled it off of him and set it aside, then pulled his boots off. “Cassidy, you don’t have to-“ “Hush.” She pulled back the covers, then eased him into her bed. She covered him up and put an elfroot leaf into his mouth. “Here, chew on it.” Cullen chewed obediently.

Cassidy busied herself with putting her own armor away that she had just tossed on the floor earlier. She settled for leaving his neatly in the corner, out of the way. She left his boots by the door. She'd worry about her pack in the morning. She wondered if it would be worth the effort to go and see if the Quartermaster was still up to ask for a sleeping mat, or if she should just take a blanket from the bed and lay it on the floor. The fire would keep her warm enough.

Cullen was gazing at her through mostly closed eyes, with the covers pulled up to his chin. “You’re a gift,” he mumbled. His hand slipped out from beneath the covers and reached out to her. “Maybe I am delirious. Are you real?” Cassidy smiled. “Yes, I’m real.” She touched her fingers to his.

“Stay with me?” He asked. “I don’t want to be alone.” Cassidy nodded. “I’ll be right here the whole time.” It looked like she was going with the blanket option. Cullen shook his head and tugged on her hand. “No, I mean come here.” Cassidy blinked. “You want me to sleep with you?” She didn’t have a problem with it, but wasn’t he supposed to be a shy Chantry boy?

“You don’t have to,” he looked sad. She shook her head, “I don’t mind. I just thought you were, you know, exceptionally modest.” He laughed a bit. “Yes, I usually am, but in times of distress, I make exceptions for close friends. When I left Kirkwall, for example, Cassandra and I shared a cot on the boat. We both still stank of blood and fire, and I was a mess. We needed the comfort of safety in numbers. I trust her, and I trust you.”

That made sense, and he seemed coherent enough. It’s not like she was going to do anything. Besides, she didn’t really want to sleep on the floor. “If you’re sure.” Cassidy sat on the edge of the bed and removed her boots. She hung her coat on the bed knob and settled in next to Cullen, gently pressing her back to his shoulder. He was delightfully warm. His forearm rested on her hip and his hand held hers loosely. Soon, his breathing slowed, and his muscles relaxed. Cassidy, glad he was feeling better and hopeful that he would continue to push through, was lulled to sleep soon after.


	13. Comfort

A gentle flow of air making his hair flutter against his forehead, producing a slight tickle, was what woke Cullen. At first, he stayed in that half state between awake and asleep, feeling delightfully comfortable. He awoke feeling safe for the first time since he could remember. He lay on his side, his arms firmly hugging something warm. His cheek rested on something soft and squishy, something that rose and fell ever so slightly. He was cradled in warmth, and vaguely aware that arms were gently hugging his head, one hand nestled in his hair, one on his back. His legs were pulled up in front of him, and something heavy was draped over them. Another pair of legs? Perhaps. Whatever it was, he was happy it was there. He never wanted to move.

As he became more aware of his surroundings, he could hear a heartbeat, and realized the soft thing his cheek was resting on was a woman’s chest. Fortunately, she was not well-endowed, so he could enjoy the comfort without having his head at an awkward angle. He opened one eye, first seeing the gentle brown of the linen shirt she wore. It was barely sunrise, and the fire had long since died down, but the chill of the room didn’t reach him beneath the blankets.

The events of the previous night were a messy blur, but he was more than content to chase away the painful lingering memories of a withdrawal episode in favour of the comfort and peace of the present. The woman he was cuddling with was Cassidy, of that he had no doubt. He didn’t have to look up at her face to know that. He took a long, slow breath, taking comfort in her presence. She smelled like soap, and something he did not quite recognize. It reminded him of fire, but he couldn’t place it.

He gave her a gentle squeeze, closing his eyes again. She shifted slightly beneath him, and the hand on his back began tracing lazy circles. The gentle touch was delightful. Cullen felt like he had found a place in the world where he belonged. She seemed to fit so well in his arms, and the crook of her shoulder seemed to be just the right shape for his head. He never wanted the moment to end.

There was a harsh knocking at the door. Cullen opened his eyes and glared, silently willing the offender to spontaneously combust. They did not, of course. Instead, there was a voice through the door. “My Lady Herald? I apologize for waking you, but the Nightingale has asked for you.” Cullen wondered what Leliana wanted so early in the morning.

Maker, they had actually slept through the night.

“Tell her I’ll be there in a bit.” Cassidy’s voice sounded muffled to Cullen with his ear to her chest. “Yes, my Lady.” Cullen could hear the soft crunching of snow as the man at the door left them in peace. Cassidy sighed softly, her fingers slowly running through Cullen’s hair. She asked softly, “are you awake?” “Barely,” he answered, his voice a gravely rumble with sleepiness. “Did you sleep well?” She asked him. He smiled slightly. “Better than I have in ages.”

She removed his hand from his hair, and he frowned at the loss, holding her possessively. She laughed softly. “Cullen, you are welcome to stay and sleep more, but I have to get up. Leliana may be patient, but she is not a forgiving woman, and I would like to be somewhat presentable. I do not wake gracefully.” Cullen rolled his eyes, “nonsense, you can stay a few minutes. I’m sure you look fine.” She snorted, “my hair would beg to differ. It’s almost as unruly as yours was in the Fallow Mire.” Cullen laughed softly. “Oh Maker, that is bad.” He leaned his head back to look up at her.

She was correct. Her hair was sticking up in all directions, and right in the middle of her forehead, one lock of it had decided to curl. Just one. She raised her eyebrow at him. He chuckled and settled back where he was. “I still don’t want to move.”

“I’m glad you’re comfortable.”

“Are you not?”

“I am, very much so. But Leliana is waiting.”

Cullen sighed softly. “Duty calls.” He reluctantly let her go, and felt awfully cold when she got up. He much preferred her to the pillow he rested his head on. He watched her walk across the room, her bare feet thumping softly on the floor. There was no grace, no sashay about her movements. She practically hobbled. She was tired, and she was cold, clearly. She looked more like a gremlin than a person, slightly hunched with her hair sticking up, scowling, hugging her arms to her chest, and grumbling to herself. Still, Cullen found himself committing the image to memory. He still found her beautiful. She made an effort to get a fire going in the hearth again.

Cullen knew he wasn’t going back to sleep at that point, so he got up, shuddering slightly when the chill of the room hit him. He joined her by the fireplace. “I’ll get it going,” he said. “You get that mop under control.” She rolled her eyes and gave him a playful shove. “You’re not much better, Curly.” He grinned, “don’t you start.” He had a warm feeling in his chest.

He got the fire going while she wrangled her hair. It mostly got under control with water from the bucket she kept for such purposes, except for the curl in the front. She huffed with frustration. Cullen commented, “it’s gotten longer.” She nodded, “I would imagine so. I haven’t trimmed it in a couple of months. It’s starting to tickle my ears. And the damned curl.” Cullen chuckled, “I know all about that.” Cassidy burst into giggles. “Oh my goodness, your hair at the Fallow Mire, that was-“ “Oh, enough!” Cullen growled, ruffling her hair. “Hey!” She huffed indignantly. “I just fixed that!”

“I’m glad you’re feeling better,” Cassidy stated, peering into the small hand mirror while she combed her hair. Cullen rubbed the back of his neck. “I apologize for last night, I never meant-“ “Oh hush, you’re fine.” She set the mirror down and turned to him, putting her hands on his arms. “Look at me. I’m always here for you, alright? For anything, big or small.” She was smiling, her pretty green eyes focused intently on him. Cullen flushed under her gaze. He blurted out, “did I say anything stupid?” Cassidy blinked, surprised, and then laughed a bit. “No, nothing stupid.” Cullen let out a sigh of relief, then pulled her into a hug. “Thank you, Cassidy.” His arms practically swallowed her. She hugged him back. “Of course. You’re always welcome here.”

If only he could wake up like that all the time.

He knew it wouldn’t be proper. People would talk. People would probably already talk; no doubt someone would see him leave her cabin. Oh well, what’s done is done, but Cullen knew with a heavy heart that he couldn’t let such a thing happen again. Not here, anyway. Not with the Inquisition so new, not with the Chantry so questioning, not with so many prying eyes. Still, with his cheek resting on her damp hair, the gentle scent of her washing over him, he doubted he could stay away forever. He wondered if he had even the slightest chance.

He let her go, looking down at her, his cheeks burning. He cleared his throat, now was a good time to ask, but his mouth felt rather dry all of a sudden, and he couldn’t find the words. He averted his gaze from her seeking eyes, mentally stumbling over incoherent nonsense.

He couldn’t do it. Damn it, he felt like such a coward.

“People will talk,” he finally managed. “When… when I leave.” He cleared his throat. “They’ll get the wrong idea. It won’t look good, with the Chantry already scrutinizing our every move, and-“ “Cullen.” She stopped him with a soft voice. “You’re rambling. What’s really on your mind?” Was he really so easy to read? His surprise must have shown on his face, because she smiled wryly. “I’m no stranger to the ways of men, Cullen. Just relax.” She reached up and gently touched his face, brushing her thumb over his cheekbone. It was comforting. “If you’re worried about the Chantry, stay here for a bit, get your armor and things on, and I’ll bring you breakfast and smuggle in some important looking papers. Then it’ll look like you just stopped in for a bite while we went over some things. Alright?”

Cullen nodded, somewhat relieved, and began to wonder exactly what he had said the previous night in his delirium. He thought he had dreamed that he had confessed his love for her. Not his ideal confession, obviously, but he had felt like he was dying, and his mind was unwell, to say the least. Had he actually told her? He watched her pull on her boots and put on a fur coat. “Are you sure I didn’t say anything stupid?” He felt like his voice sounded rather meek. She shook her head with a smile. “Nothing stupid, Cullen, I promise. Maybe a little crazy, maybe something you weren’t ready to tell me yet, maybe even something you didn’t quite mean, but nothing stupid.”

“If I said it,” he began, practically overwhelmed with nerves. He swallowed thickly, unable to look at her. “You’re a good friend to me, Cassidy, and I won’t put that in jeopardy, so feel free to ignore me but…” He ran his fingers through his hair. His heart was racing. “If I said it, I meant it.” He felt like such a fool, but he couldn’t back out now. He just hoped he wouldn’t make things awkward between them. He should have waited. He should have let things settle, let the Inquisition get more secure; but something could happen to either one of them at any time, and he had never felt like this before, so he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do. Maker’s breath, he was a mess.

Cassidy sighed softly, and Cullen felt his heart fall through his stomach. He should have known she wouldn’t feel the same. He couldn’t look at her as she approached, but then she began talking. “I’m a selfish woman, Cullen, are you sure you mean that? With everything going on, I can’t offer you what you need.” Wait, that didn’t sound like the rejection he was expecting. He finally brought his gaze to meet hers. She was standing very close.

“I know,” he took one of her hands in his. “I just know that everything feels easier with you. I know we have only had a couple of short weeks in each other’s company, and I know you and Cassandra… well… sort of, not really. She and I- we’re close, but it’s not like how you two are close, and- Maker, I… I don’t know, but…” He shook his head. “Maker’s breath, I’ve never felt like this. I don’t know what to do.”

She reached up and rested her free hand on the back of his head. “Kiss me. Then take some time to think about it, how it makes you feel, and I’ll be right here. Though, it would probably be best to wait until the Breach is sealed to really start something serious.” Cullen gulped, “kiss you? Just like that?” Cassidy smiled, looking almost bashful, her lightly freckled cheeks flushed pink. “You don’t have to. It’s just a suggestion. You’d be surprised how much can be cleared up with a kiss.”

He squeezed the hand that he held, his other hand resting on her cheek, and kissed her softly. It felt… right. He felt like he might melt. Her lips were slightly chapped, and seemed to fit perfectly against his own. She moved her lips slowly against his, obviously much more experienced in such matters. Cullen let her lead, practically putty in her hands. Maker’s _breath_ , it felt wonderful, and set his heart on fire.

He found himself reluctant to let her go when she pulled away. She had a shy smile. “I’ll be back soon. I’ll see if I can’t get you something better than oatmeal for breakfast.” He just nodded, too awestruck to say anything. She left, hugging her coat close to ward off the cold. Cullen sat on the edge of the bed with a dumb smile on his face. If he wasn’t certain before, he was now. He was in love.

He didn’t want to think of the consequences. He let himself enjoy the moment.


	14. How to End a Fight

Frustrated as she was about Blackwall not knowing anything about the disappearance of the Grey Wardens, Cassandra was glad that he had decided to join the Inquisition, because the bandits on the East Road were putting up quite the fight. They were on the last group of them, down in the ravine just before the entrance to an old quarry. Sera and Solas did not get along at all, but they fought well together, and Blackwall was a mighty force of his own. Between them and Cassidy on lyrium, Cassandra just had to wrangle the stragglers on the edges, mostly busying herself taking down archers.

Cassandra was concerned about Cassidy. More and more, she had seen Cassidy taking lyrium when she shouldn’t need it. This fight, perhaps, was well warranted, but the small group earlier wasn’t. Cassandra fully intended on having a firm talk with her that night when they made camp.

The battle was soon over, and they set up a small camp. Inquisition scouts soon joined them, bringing supplies. Cassandra watched Cassidy pace around the edges like a rabid animal, clearly still in the climax of her lyrium high. Blackwall approached Cassandra, clearing his throat. “Is she alright?” Cassandra didn’t quite know how to explain it to him. “She is. She’s just… She’s fine.” Blackwall nodded, a solemn look on his face. “I saw someone fight like that once. A Templar, going after a maleficar. I was in the area, and offered to help. The other Templars with him said to just stay out of his way. It was… disturbing. Like he was mad, but still completely sane.”

“It is called blue bloodlust,” Cassandra said quietly. “And I would prefer if you didn’t tell the others you had noticed.” “She’s on lyrium then? She’s no Templar. Why?” He crossed his arms. Cassandra sighed. “Strength. It is complicated. We cannot risk her falling in battle, but we can’t just march around with an army to protect her. Besides, she doesn’t need nearly as much as a Templar. The mark amplifies lyrium’s effect.” Blackwall nodded slowly. “As long as she doesn’t try to kill us.” Cassandra shook her head, “she will not. Hers is a protective instinct.”

Cassandra approached Cassidy when it was clear that Blackwall had no more to say. “Are you ready to move on?” Cassidy nodded, “yes. I think I took too much. I need to fight it out. I hope there’s something big through that tunnel.” Cassandra internally grimaced. She had to make Cassidy see that this was not something to be taken lightly.

Apparently it would have to wait, because Cassidy took up her sword and headed through the tunnel. Cassandra gathered the others and followed her. None of them were prepared for the dragon in the next valley.

The look of awe on Cassidy’s face was quite different from the fear that flashed across everyone else’s. “That’s a dragon!” She shouted in disbelief, watching as it took to the sky, knocking over a massive pillar of stone. “That’s a fucking dragon! It’s real! I can’t believe it!” Blackwall shouted at her, “well don’t stand around trying to pet it, move out of the way!” He pushed her out of the way of a fireball. She stumbled forward, then looked up with a grin. “You mean we’re gonna kill it? Oh, this is gonna be great!”

Cassandra gulped and readied herself. It was going to be a long, hard battle.

They battled the beast for what felt like hours. First, Cassandra let Cassidy keep its attention while Solas and Sera wore it down from a distance. She and Blackwall took care of the dragonlings swarming them, so the others could focus solely on the high dragon.

“Take that, you son of a bitch!” Cassidy shouted, bashing her shield into the nose of the dragon. She then ducked down as it reared its head and slashed at its soft belly. It kicked at her, sending her rolling across the rough stone. She scrambled to her feet, a pained look crossing her face. Cassandra wanted to be displeased, but couldn’t blame her when she took another vial of lyrium. That blue ring flashed around her eyes, and the pain receded from her expression. She charged the dragon before it could turn its attention from her, and the battle resumed.

After another hour, Cassandra slaughtered the last dragonling, and they chased the dragon up through the hills to its nest. It was bleeding heavily at that point, and its wings were torn and littered with arrows. It would not fly away from them again. With the five of them, they managed to bring the great beast down.

Exhausted, Cassandra leaned against a rock, breathing heavily and sweating. “Maker’s mercy, it’s finally over.” “I never want to do that again!” Sera shouted, sprawling out on the ground. Blackwall was gulping down water. Even Solas sat down in the dust to rest. Cassidy was ripping her armor off, hissing with discomfort. It was half melted, and dented in many places. She had taken the brunt of many of the dragon’s attacks. “Fuck!” She wrenched her shield off of her arm. “Fuckin hell!” She poured water over her face, then drank some. She slumped down on a rock. “That sucked.”

Soon, Inquisition men came to strip the dragon of useful material, and they each took a healing concoction to soothe any small burns they might have received. Cassandra stood over the remains of Cassidy’s armor. “You know, I bet Harritt could make armor out of the dragon bones. He has the skill." Cassidy looked up at her from her spot on the rock next to it. “You think? That would be great. I’ll ask him.”

“Cassidy,” Cassandra began, “will you walk with me? I would like to speak with you.” Cassidy nodded, getting to her feet. They made their way down from the hill, out of earshot of the others, and walked by the edge of Lake Calenhad. “You have been taking too much lyrium.” Cassandra stated, getting right to the point. “I am concerned for you. I saw you taking it when you didn’t need it. I’m worried that you don’t understand the consequences.”

Cassidy sighed. “Yeah, yeah, I know. I just… the song. The lyrium sings, in the back of your head, and it’s a comfort. It makes me stronger, so much stronger. It takes away pain, and it makes it easier not to think of certain things. It’s either that or alcohol, and I don’t want to be an alcoholic.” Cassandra scowled. “Cassidy. You’re not listening to me. You need to stop. You need to cut down on it.” Cassidy rolled her eyes, “Cassandra, I’m not a child. It’s not like I’m actually taking that much. The mark amplifies it, remember? In retrospect, I’m taking a small amount.”

Cassandra raised her voice, frustrated. “It doesn’t matter! The mark may also be amplifying the negative effects as well. You get the headaches if you don’t get it, do you not? You are becoming addicted, and that is not a good thing! You are the Herald of Andraste!” Cassidy frowned, “oh, don’t use that, I don’t even believe in Andraste!” Cassandra let out a frustrated groan. “You’re hopeless! It doesn’t matter if you believe or not. People believe in you! You owe it to them to-“

“I don’t owe these people a damn thing!” Cassidy shouted. “I don’t even belong here! This is your world, not mine! Everything I’ve done, I’ve done because I want to, not because I owe _anyone_. Everyone has their bad habits, Cassandra.” Cassandra snarled, “not everyone’s bad habits will drive them into insanity before killing them.” Cassidy crossed her arms. “I appreciate your concern, but I really don’t think it’s any of your damn business. It’s not going to kill me before we seal the Breach, so what do you care?”

Cassandra’s heart fell. Before she knew it, her voice was thick with emotion, and she couldn’t stop the words tumbling from her mouth. “I care about _you,_ Cassidy, not just the mark on your hand. Why can’t you see that? You are brash and abrasive and annoying and stubborn and a brat and I _love_ you! When we close the Breach, I am not going to just cast you aside! I do not want to lose you.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Cassidy’s expression was torn, and she looked almost heartbroken. “Cassandra, I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry. I…” She ran her hands through her hair, letting out a short, sharp breath. “Fuck. Alright. I’ll try to cut back. I can’t… I can’t quit. Not yet. I can’t even say I’ll save it for battles. I just… damn it. I’ll try, okay?” Cassandra nodded, feeling overwhelmed. “That is all I can ask, is that you try.”

Cassidy looked out over the lake. “Cassandra, do you really love me? Me, of all people?” Cassandra felt heat creeping up her neck and swiftly turned her gaze out at the water. “I… I do. I am not sure why, but I am sure that I do.” Cassidy shifted on her feet, seeming almost nervous. “You remember coming back from Val Royeaux, how you said you wanted to end every fight with a kiss?” Cassandra was surprised, and looked at Cassidy, who was bright red. “You remembered that?” Cassandra could hardly believe it. Cassidy nodded. Cassandra gulped. “Yes, I remember.”

“Damn it,” Cassidy leaned her head back, scrunching her face up. “I’m selfish, Cassandra. Will you kiss me?” She turned to Cassandra, her eyes wide. Cassandra’s heart was racing. She nodded and stepped closer. Cassidy hung her head, “fuck. Hold on. Before you do, I’ve got to tell you. I kissed Cullen.”

“You _what?”_

“I know, I know!” Cassidy ran her hands through her hair, looking distraught. “I’m so confused, I don’t know what’s going on, I thought kissing him would clear up how I felt but it hasn’t and I still don’t know, so I asked you, and-“

_SLAP!_

Cassidy stumbled back, reeling from the force of Cassandra’s hit. Cassandra’s fury faded as quickly as it came, and was immediately replaced with regret. Oddly enough, jealousy was never in the mix. Cassandra found that she had no issue with Cassidy kissing Cullen, only that Cassidy was going to use an apology kiss to figure out if she actually liked Cassandra.

“I deserved that.” Cassidy looked resigned, rubbing her cheek. “I… understand if you-“ Cassandra cut her off by grabbing the front of her shirt and kissing her hard. Cassandra felt her heart skip. All of her emotion was replaced with melty love. She let go of the front of Cassidy’s shirt and rested her hand on Cassidy’s cheek. Cassidy put her hands on Cassandra’s shoulders and returned her kiss.

Cassidy broke away, and Cassandra could feel her breath on her lips as she murmured, “I’m sorry.” Cassandra nodded, “as am I. I shouldn’t have hit you.” Cassidy grinned, “nah, it’s fine. I definitely deserved it.” Cassandra kissed her again, wrapping her arms around Cassidy’s shoulders. Cassidy hugged her waist and stood on her toes so they were just about even in height. Cassandra could feel the blush spreading across her cheeks, and smiled into the kiss.

“Oh, Andraste’s arse, if you two are done shoving your tongues down each other’s throats, Redcliffe awaits.” they jumped apart at the sound of Sera shouting at them. Cassandra was horribly embarrassed, and looked out at the water. Cassidy turned to face Sera with a grin. “Yeah yeah, we’re coming. Keep your mouth shut, Red Jenny.” Cassandra risked a glance and saw Sera’s cheeky expression.

Maker preserve her, she wanted to melt into the rock.


	15. Make Them Hear You

Cassidy didn’t really get a chance to speak with either Cassandra or Cullen after they discovered what was really happening at Redcliffe. Part of her didn’t want to face them. After seeing what she had seen with Dorian a year in the future, she didn’t really want to talk with anyone. Besides, preparations with the mages they had freed from Magister Alexius, whom had sent her into the future, kept her busy. It kept her mind off of what she had seen as well.

She also didn’t want to face them because of lyrium. She had told Cassandra she would try to lessen her doses, but after seeing what would become of the world if she failed, she was taking more. Only a slight bit more, just a bit before bed to help her sleep and a bit when she woke up to shake off the nightmares, but she knew they wouldn’t approve, and she wasn’t ready for that conversation.

Damn it, she was being selfish, but with everything going on, she felt she had earned the right to be a bit of an idiot. Just for a bit. Just until the Breach was closed.

Solas walked by her side, heading up with a group of elite mages towards the Breach. Cassandra brought up the rear with some of Leliana’s people and a couple of Chantry Sisters. Cassidy was nervous. No, she was downright terrified. This was going to hurt. They reached the threshold of the Temple of Sacred Ashes, and for a moment, she couldn’t bring herself to take another step. Then she felt Cassandra’s hand touch her shoulder, gently pushing her forward, and Solas looked over his shoulder at her with an encouraging smile. She gulped and kept moving.

They stopped below the Breach, and one of the Chantry Sisters said a blessing over her. “She whom is unshaken by the darkness of the world, and boasts not, nor gloats over the misfortunes of the weak, but takes delight in the Maker's law and creations; she shall know the peace of the Maker's benediction. The Light shall lead her safely through the paths of this world, and into the next. For she who trusts in the Maker, fire is her water. As the moth sees light and goes toward flame, she should see fire and go towards Light. The Veil holds no uncertainty for her, and she will know no fear of death, for the Maker shall be her beacon and her shield, her foundation and her sword.*” Cassidy bowed her head and closed her eyes, sending up a silent prayer of her own. She heard Cassandra’s voice softly following the Sister’s words.

Then it was time. Cassidy was aware of Solas speaking, but his words were drowned out by the thrumming of her heart in her ears as the mages’ power surged through her, through her mark, connecting to the Breach. She was blinded by the pain, like white hot fire, but at the same time, she felt separated from it, as if she were experiencing it through the body of another person. Her jaw was clenched shut, and she felt frozen.

For a moment, she felt a hot wind washing over her, smelling like gunpowder and diesel fuel, and she could hear the distinct sound of a helicopter flying overhead.

Then it was gone, and she was on her knees, gasping for breath. Cassandra was beside her in an instant, pulling her to her feet, a smile on her scarred face. “You did it,” the Seeker proclaimed. Cassidy smiled wearily. “I did?” Cassandra nodded.

They were met in Haven with cheers, hollers, and shouts of victory. The Herald had sealed the Breach. The partying started then, and everyone wanted to talk to her.

It was hours before Cassidy got a moment to herself. Sitting on a bench, gazing up at the scarred sky where the Breach had been, Cassidy had an odd feeling. She didn’t feel safe, like an adrenaline rush she couldn’t shake; she tapped her foot nervously and chewed on her lip. Something just wasn’t right, but what was it?

That was when the attack began.

Angry red marched over the mountain, hurling fire ahead of them, and they sang a song of madness. It echoed in the back of Cassidy’s head as she ran for the gates, where a young man had just been let in by Cullen. “You,” the man, a strange man who seemed… different, to say the least, pointed at Cassidy. “He is here for you. You took his mages. He is angry.”

“Get out there and fire the trebuchets!” Cullen’s command rang out, and Cassidy found herself jumping to obey. Her heart thrummed in her ears as she downed a shot of lyrium. Their song was louder now. They crawled over the rocks, twisted men with sprouts of the same red lyrium that Varric had been so intent on destroying growing out of them. Cassidy snatched up a sword to face them. She had no armor, and barely managed to grab a wooden training shield before the first one lunged at her, sword brandished.

Still, with the lyrium flowing through her veins, and the mark humming softly, she stood a chance. The screams of the people of Haven as they ran from these horrors drove her into a frenzy, keeping the Red Templars in the immediate area occupied long enough for the trebuchet to fire, causing an avalanche over some of the forces crossing the mountains.

“Get to the other trebuchet! It isn’t firing!”

Cassidy felt a hand on her arm, and turned, sword raised, halting when Vivienne met her with a stern gaze. “This way, darling. We’ve got to fire the other trebuchet, or we won’t stand a chance. You’ve got to focus.” It was hard to focus. All she wanted was to see them bleed. Cassidy let Vivienne guide her down the path, running blindly through the haze; Vivienne’s sharp fingernails dug into her wrist as the First Enchanter dragged her along. “There,” Vivienne let her go and pointed towards Red Templars standing over the bodies of slaughtered Inquisition soldiers that had been manning the now abandoned trebuchet. “There’s your target, dear. End them.”

That was all the encouragement Cassidy needed. The song of the lyrium in her system clashed with the invasive noise of the red lyrium’s screech as she clashed with the Red Templars, her mouth open in a battle cry she could not hear. She pushed harder, now glad she had been taking more. She barely noticed when she was wounded. She was aware of Vivienne’s magic around her, combating the Red Templars, but she paid it no mind. She focused on her own battle, and one by one, they fell to her blade.

“Protect me, darling,” Vivienne called out, leaning her staff against the trebuchet as she started cranking it back. Cassidy rolled her shoulders, adjusting her shield, and did as she was told, beating and battering any who got too close. She was vaguely aware of sharp pains in her ribs and her left leg, but she paid it no mind, until she began to feel faint. Darkness tugged at the edges of her vision, and through a blue haze, she looked down and saw red soaking her clothes. She was bleeding. Badly.

The trebuchet fired. Vivienne turned to her, shoving a healing potion in her shield hand. “Drink this. I’m no healer, dear, I’m going to have to cauterize them. Can you handle it? Cassidy, darling, here, bite this.” She cut off a thick strip of leather from the uniform of one of the dead soldiers. Cassidy downed the healing potion, then bit the leather. Vivienne put her hand first on Cassidy’s ribs. “Bite, dear, this will hurt. Put down your sword, I don’t want you chopping off my head.” Cassidy dropped her sword, then bit hard on the leather when Vivienne summoned searing flames to her hand, burning the wound shut. Cassidy screamed, tears streaming down her face. Her mark flared, and the lyrium song in her head drowned out all else. She was vaguely aware of Vivienne’s hand moving to her leg, then the same burning followed.

Vivienne placed Cassidy’s sword back in her hand. Cassidy couldn’t hear what she was saying, between the ringing in her ears and the song in her head as the mark flared to protect her. Vivienne pulled the leather strip from her mouth, her expression stern, and mouthed quite clearly, “FIGHT.” Cassidy gripped the sword and nodded, wiping the tears from her face on the back of her sleeve. The stench of burned flesh mingled with the smell of burning wood. A dragon flew overhead, destroying the trebuchets outside of Haven’s walls. It was not like the dragon in the Hinterlands. This one had a demonic appearance, and sang with the red lyrium’s maddening song.

Vivienne led her back down the path, towards the gates of Haven. Everything was clouded with a haze of blue in Cassidy’s vision. Only the Red Templars could be seen clearly, and she was quite happy to kill them on sight. They stopped to help Harritt get into the smithy, smashing the boxes in front of the door. Cassidy was starting to be able to hear what was going on again. They made it to the gates with Harritt in tow, and spotted Cullen pulling the last people inside. Cullen spotted them, and his expression turned to one of fear when he saw Cassidy. Cassidy could hear Vivienne’s voice, “she’s under control, dear, did Cassandra not tell you?” Cullen shook his head, looking rather pale.

“We need to get to the Chantry,” Cullen shook off his emotion. “It’s the only building that stands a chance. At this point, make them work for it.” He broke into a run towards the Chantry. Vivienne turned to Cassidy, but Cassidy’s gaze had already been drawn away, towards a group of Red Templars swarming one of Cullen’s Templars, Lysette. Cassidy charged them, and with Vivienne’s help, made quick work of them.

They heard a scream coming from the tavern. Cassidy looked to Vivienne, who nodded. “We have to save them, darling. Come on,” they made their way through the burning village to the tavern, where Vivienne used a blast of magic to break down the door. The tavern was ablaze inside. Vivienne used her ice magic to clear a path while Cassidy ran towards the source of the crying. She dug through rubble, not caring that her hands were burning, not caring about the splinters, only caring about the woman buried there. She dragged Flissa from the rubble and tossed her over her shoulders, running for the door and making it out just as the tavern collapsed in on itself.

“Go,” Vivienne told Flissa, “to the Chantry, run!” Vivienne turned to Cassidy. “There must be more. Come, darling, we can save them. Can you do it?” Cassidy nodded. The blue haze was fading, and she could think a little more clearly, but she still felt just as strong.

They saved as many people as they could find before Haven was swarmed with Red Templars, and they were forced to run for the Chantry. They stumbled inside and pulled the doors closed behind them.

The strange man from the gates, who called himself Cole, supported a badly wounded Chancellor Roderick. Cassidy was beginning to feel the pain of her wounds. The burns, the slashes, the splinters in her hands; tears spilled from her eyes. Vivienne handed her another healing concoction, silent pity crossing her face. Cassidy drank it. It didn’t help much, but it was better than nothing.

“The Pilgrim’s Path,” Chancellor Roderick managed to say. “Perhaps that is why the Maker led me here, to lead you out.” Cullen ran his hands through his hair. “It’s a chance, but in order to not be followed, we’d have to bury Haven. There’s one trebuchet left, just inside the wall. If someone can get to it, if we can hold them back long enough to get everyone out, then-“

“I’ll do it,” Cassidy croaked, her voice cracking from the smoke. She coughed, clearing her throat. “He’s here for me, right? I’ll keep him busy. I’ll fire the trebuchet. Fuck this Elder One, I’ll give him the finger while I’m at it.” She expected Cullen to frown at her language, or outright refuse, and call her crazy. But instead, a heartbroken look came over his face. She smiled, “oh, Cullen, don’t look at me like that. I’ll be fine.” He looked distraught. “Maybe you’ll make it out somehow?”

Cole and Chancellor Roderick began to lead the way, and the others slowly left. Vivienne placed another bottle of lyrium in Cassidy’s palm. “Your armor, my dear. Use it wisely.” Vivenne patted her hand and left. Cullen was the last to go. He pulled her into a tight hug, and she could hear his breath catching in his throat. “Make them hear you.” He let her go, and didn’t look back.

Cassidy slipped out of the Chantry’s heavy doors, and found herself faced with an army of Red Templars. She made a run for it, darting through their grasping claws, tearing through Haven as fast as her legs would carry her. She could hear them chasing after her. She popped the cork off of the lyrium vial and downed it just as she reached the trebuchet. She readied her shield. She pushed them off as her free hand cranked the trebuchet, slowly turning it to face the mountain behind Haven. Finally, she got it into place. She picked up her sword, just as a massive twisted behemoth of red lyrium swung at her. Unprepared, she took the blow head on, slammed back into the ground. Her mark flared, and the blue haze returned to her vision. She tasted blood.

She managed to roll out of the way before the behemoth could hit her again. _Make them hear you._ Cullen’s words echoed in her head. What started as a whimper of agony turned to a cry of rage as she leaned her head back and yelled with all of the force she could muster. “Come and get me, motherfucker!” She forced herself to her feet.

 _Make them hear you._ “Is that the best you’ve got?!” She shouted, rushing the behemoth, driving her shield into one of its knees. It didn’t do much damage, but it made the beast stumble. She hit it again and again with her sword. The maddening hum of the red lyrium threatened to drown her, but when the song in her head faltered, her own voice rose up to bolster it. Every breath was a shout, every hit a war cry. _Make them hear you._ They would hear her, to her last breath, they would hear.

The behemoth fell. Cassidy let out a holler of victory. It was short-lived. The dragon she had seen earlier swooped in, and from the smoke of its breath, what she assumed was the Elder One stalked forward. He was tall, and twisted, and his very presence emanated the maddening hum of the red lyrium. It was overwhelming.

The dragon knocked Cassidy back. Her sword flew from her hand and her shield was ripped from her arm. Still, Cassidy stood, the lyrium in her blood singing to her. She prepared for a fight.

“Enough!” The Elder One flared with magic. “Pretender! You toy with forces you don’t comprehend. No more!” Cassidy sneered. “Damn, you’re ugly. Whatever sort of thing you are, I’m not afraid of you!” The thing scowled. “Foolish mortal, know me, know what you have pretended to be! Exalt the Elder One, the will that is Corypheus. You will kneel.”

Cassidy laughed. “The last man who said that to me got punched in the face. Looks like you’re next, pal.” Corypheus, as he called himself, sneered. “Childish girl, you do not deserve the power you wield. It will not stop me. I am here for the Anchor. The process of removing it begins now.” The orb in his hand began to glow.

Her mark reacted. She hissed in pain, gripping her wrist as her fingers clenched around the Anchor. “It is your fault, Herald. You interrupted a ritual years in the planning, and instead of dying, you stole its purpose.” Corypheus’s hands glowed with magic. “I do not know how you survived, but what marks you as touched, what you flail at rifts, I crafted to assault the very heavens.”

Cassidy felt to her knees, biting back a cry of agony. Corypheus stalked closer. “And you use it to undo my work? The gall!” It felt like her body was being ripped apart. She smelled gunpowder, and a hot wind washed over her. Her gut clenched, and grew sticky with blood from wounds that were no longer there. Her head spun, drowning out even the lyrium’s song, and the blue haze was gone from her vision.

Cassidy tried to say something, anything, but her mouth wouldn’t form the words. Corypheus grabbed her by the arm and lifted her into the air, her feet dangling helplessly. He kept talking. “I once breached the Fade in the name of another, to serve the Old Gods of the empire in person. I found only chaos and corruption. Dead whispers. For a thousand years I was confused. No more! I will return under no name but my own, to champion Tevinter and correct this blighted world. Beg that I succeed, for I have seen the throne of the gods, and it was _empty!_ ”

A look of anger came over his face and he threw her. Her back hit the trebuchet, and she slid down, resting at its base, groaning softly. She shook the ringing from her ears. Corypheus snarled, “the Anchor is permanent. You have spoiled it with your stumbling.” Cassidy spotted a sword by her feet and scrambled for it, leaning against the trebuchet and holding it up, her other hand on her stomach, soaked in blood.

“So be it,” Corypheus was scowling. “I will begin again. I will find another way to give this world the nation – the god – it requires.” Cassidy saw a flare shoot up from the mountains behind him. So the survivors had made it out? Good. A slight smile crossed her face.

“And you!” Corypheus caught her attention again. “I will not suffer even an unknowing rival. You must die.” Cassidy let out a breathy laugh. “You talk too much. Fuck you!” She gave him the middle finger and kicked the trebuchet controls, sending a boulder hurling at the mountain. It struck its mark, and snow came tumbling down towards them. Cassidy broke into a stumbling run, spotting an old mineshaft, praying it would be enough to survive the coming avalanche. She dove into it just as snow and rubble overtook Haven.

Cassidy tumbled down the tunnel and hit the ground hard at the bottom. She laid there for a moment, letting the cold soothe the burning of her wounds. She was in sorry shape, but she couldn’t lay there forever. She couldn’t give up. She pushed herself to her feet and stumbled forward through the cave, trying not to trip over rocks and rubble. She came across some demons, and having no way to fight them, she put her hand up.

The mark sparked, and a mini-rift opened, freezing the demons in place and sucking the life from them. As quick as it had happened, it was gone again. Cassidy kept pushing forward.

She found the mouth of the cave and stumbled out into the harsh winds of the mountain pass. Thankfully, it was to her back, so she didn’t have to fight it as she pushed through knee deep snow. Each step was harder than the last. The cold soaked into her bones, but she kept pushing forward until she was ready to drop.

Then she spotted the embers of a dying fire. “Still warm?” She stepped around it, hope flooding her chest.

The next thing she knew, she was falling into Cullen’s arms, unable to stay conscious any longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *(slightly changed) excerpt from the Chant of Light, Transfigurations 10:1, Andraste’s sermon at Valarian Fields.


	16. Author's Note

I know I havent updated in a long time, I'm sorry! I promise I haven't abandoned this story. Work has just been taking over my life, and I'm planning a big move soon, and I haven't had a whole lot of time to myself. I'll get back to it soon, I promise. Thanks for all the support!


	17. Inquisitor

Nothing felt real. In fact, Cassidy was certain she had died when she had collapsed in the mountain pass, because everything after that felt like a hazy dream. When the Inquisition, lost and hopeless in the mountain pass, banded together and sang to her in the mountains, it didn’t feel real. When Solas had told her what the orb that Corypheus wielded was, it didn’t feel real. When they had found Skyhold, she hadn’t really felt the same elation as those around her. When they had named her Inquisitor, the last thing she had expected, she had accepted with honour, but she barely remembered the makeshift ceremony they held in the ruined courtyard of Skyhold. Nothing felt real, and she wasn’t sure why.

She stood in the ruined hall of Skyhold with her advisors, hearing them talk about their plans now that they knew their enemy, but not really listening. She gazed up at the stained glass, still intact even as the walls crumbled around them. “They’re beautiful windows,” she whispered, mostly to herself. She was aware that her advisors had left the hall. She stayed where she was and gazed up at the windows, watching the sunlight filter through them. Dust floated through the air, catching the rays of light to form the appearance of solid beams through the room. It reminded Cassidy of photographs she had seen of great cathedrals, only this was far less elaborate and far more awe inspiring.

“Inquisitor?” Dorian’s voice shattered the peace. Cassidy leaned her head back. “You’re not going to call me that all the time, are you?” Dorian laughed a bit, coming to stand at her side. “I just might, only to rile you up.” He gazed up at the windows as well, taking a moment of silence to contemplate. He then turned to look at her, the question catching on his tongue. “Are you… are you alright?” Cassidy was caught a bit off guard. He gave her a gentle smile, his eyes knowing. “You can answer that honestly, you know. This dusty hall is empty, for the moment. Everyone is outside listening to orders from our esteemed Commander.”

Reality hit, and Cassidy couldn’t stop the flow of tears; the hiccupping sobs threatened to choke her if she breathed the wrong way. Dorian pulled her into a hug and patted her back gently. “There there, let it all out. You’ve been through quite a lot.” Cassidy cried into his shoulder, her arms loosely hugging him.

After a little while, she pulled herself together, and found herself feeling much better than she had been. She sniffled and wiped her face with her sleeve. “Thanks, Dorian.” Dorian gave her a sympathetic smile. “We all rely on you, but you don’t really have anyone to rely on, do you? You have a heavy burden to carry. It’s okay to set it down every once in a while.” Cassidy smiled a bit. “You’re a good friend, you know that?” Dorian scoffed, “don’t tell anyone. They’ll begin to have _expectations.”_ Cassidy laughed at that.

“Why don’t you get some rest?” Dorian suggested. “There’s a cozy little window in the library that I’ve claimed for myself, but if you wanted to nap there, I suppose I’ll share, just this once.” Cassidy nodded, “that seems like a good idea.” She followed him towards the rotunda.

Solas was in the atrium, dusting off the old desk in there for his personal use. He looked up as they entered. “Inquisitor,” he greeted her warmly. She smiled, “no need for all that, Solas.” “Posturing is necessary. A new title must be respected by even the innermost members of a circle in order to be respected by those on the outside looking in.” At her annoyed expression, Solas smiled in a friendly manner. “Perhaps you will drop by for a friendly chat when you get the chance?” Cassidy nodded, “of course.”

Cassidy trudged up the stairs after Dorian. The library was dusty, but nestled among the cushions by the open window, it wasn’t so bad. The breeze felt real against her skin, and the quiet sound of Dorian turning the page of his book in the chair by her feet was a comfort. It was all very real. She closed her eyes and drifted off peacefully.

* * *

Cassidy took a deep breath of fresh mountain air, standing just outside of the great hall. After some time with Dorian, a strange dream-walking chat with Solas, meeting Hawke, and checking in with all of her other friends, she was feeling much better. Perhaps it was the influence of the strange spirit boy, Cole. She didn’t quite understand what he was, but he claimed he was there to help, and she trusted Solas’s judgement, so she had let him stay.

She had also been working with Harritt for a couple of days to make dragon bone armor, and it was glorious indeed: golden armor with the Inquisition insignia emblazoned on the front, and accented with dark red dragonling leather. Unfortunately, Josephine and Vivienne didn’t want the Inquisitor walking around her own keep in full armor all of the time, so they had sent for a tailor from Val Royeaux. Until the tailor arrived, she wore a simple warm brown button up garb.

Work on the restoration of Skyhold was coming along decently. The main hall was cleared of rubble, and work was beginning to restore the crumbling walls. The battlements were the priority. It would be slow going, but as Cullen had stated in a previous conversation, they could make a stand here.

Cullen. She could see him in the courtyard below, standing at his makeshift desk, littered with rocks to keep his papers from blowing away. They had barely spoken since Haven. He had been busy, trying to regroup and get the restoration of the fortress going. She had caught him once, in a quiet moment, but it had been nothing more than a short chat. At that moment, he was alone, merely shuffling through a few papers and scowling.

Cassidy made her way down the stairs and into the courtyard where he was. He looked up at her approach, “Inquisitor.” She frowned a bit at that. It was taking some getting used to. Not that she wasn’t used to being addressed by a rank, but there was no off time. She was always the Inquisitor. It was as if Cassidy no longer existed.

Cullen gave her a sympathetic look. “You’ll get used to it.” Cassidy nodded. “I will. How is everything coming along?” Cullen stood straight, his gaze turning towards the battlements. “Faster than I expected. There are good foundations here.” Cassidy let her eyes wander over his desk. “And how are you doing?” She looked up at him. She wasn’t expecting such a weary expression to cross his face.

“Everything is in place, and now that I have less to keep me busy, I…” He sighed, setting his papers down with a rock on top of them and rubbing the back of his neck. “I have something on my mind. I’ve been meaning to come talk to you. I just haven’t had the chance.” Cassidy gave him an encouraging nod, “I’m here now.”

“Therinfal Redoubt,” Cullen began. “Where the Templars had all gone before we sealed the Breach. We now know that Corypheus corrupted them with red lyrium, but some of them had to have fought against it. I doubt they survived, but I want to know what happened to them. According to Leliana’s scouts, Therinfal is empty once more, though I wouldn’t call it safe. I want to go there, to see for myself what became of them. I spoke to Cassandra about it, since she is a Seeker, and asked her to come with me. She suggested I ask you to come along as well. I know you don’t know much about the Templars, and I’m sure you’re busy enough as the new Inquisitor, but if you do find the time…”

Cassidy smiled warmly. “Of course. I’m actually free for the next week or so. Josephine has all of the diplomatic stuff covered, and we’re waiting on the tailor to arrive from Val Royeaux. Our next big move isn’t planned until after that. I’m sure no one will mind if we slip away for a few days. The little things can take care of themselves.” Cullen looked relieved. “Thank you. Perhaps we can leave in the morning?” Cassidy nodded. “I’ll let Cassandra know.” She reached out and brushed her fingers over Cullen’s hand. “Are you prepared for what we might find there?” Cullen looked down at her hand, turning his over to link a few fingers with hers. “No. But with you there to support me, I will be able to handle it.” He smiled at her. “I’ve kept you long enough. I’m sure you have other things to do before we go.” Cassidy squeezed his hand before heading back up the stairs. There was still plenty that needed to be cleared up, but for now, they were just happy to be alive and safe.

Cassidy made her way back past the tavern to the training grounds where Cassandra spent most of her time. The Seeker was indeed there, battering away at a training dummy as always. Cassidy stopped for a moment to watch, leaning against the outer wall of the tavern.

Cassandra stopped for a moment, glancing over. “I assume Cullen spoke to you about Therinfal Redoubt?” “He did,” Cassidy told her. “We’re leaving in the morning, if that works for you.” Cassandra gave a brief nod before showering the dummy with another round of blows. “When we go,” the Seeker began, “be on your guard. I do not know what we will find, but I do know it will not be pretty. We cannot walk in unprepared.”

Cassidy moved closer, reaching out and resting her hand on Cassandra’s forearm, stopping her storm of blows. “Cassandra, are you alright?” Cassandra sighed softly. “Am I that easy to read?” Cassidy laughed a bit. “You tried to kill Varric.” Cassandra smiled a bit, turning her face away to hide it. “Only a little.” “You can’t kill someone only a little, Cassandra.”

Cassandra set her sword aside, wiping the sweat from her face on her sleeve. “We all still feel the pain of Haven’s loss. I let my emotions get ahead of me. If you must know, I did apologize to him.” Cassidy put her hand over her mouth. “ _You_ apologized to _Varric_?” Cassandra rolled her eyes. “Is that so unbelievable? I was wrong, so I apologized.” Cassidy shook her head, “no, I’m sorry, I’m proud of you. No, don’t look at me like that, I’m not laughing, I’m not! Cassandra, don’t hit me!” She ducked away from a lazy swipe from the Seeker’s outstretched fist.

Cassandra was smiling. It warmed Cassidy’s heart and put a grin on her face. Apparently the grin was misread, because Cassandra swiped at her again with more intent, and Cassidy barely managed to stumble back in time. “Hey! It won’t look good if you hit your Inquisitor right after naming her, you know!” Cassandra rolled her eyes, “it doesn’t matter if no one is looking, _Inquisitor._ ” Cassidy giggled and backed away, doing her best to climb the pile of rubble in the back of the training yard without turning her back to Cassandra, who was stalking her with a playful gleam in her eye. “Are you roughhousing with me, Cassandra? I must say I’m surprised,” Cassidy scrambled back up the stone bricks. Cassandra caught hold of her ankle. “Someone needs to put you in your place. You are making fun of me. It is a matter of honour.” Cassidy laughed, trying to wriggle free from her grasp. “So you’re going to duel me now?”

“No,” Cassandra pulled her down by her ankle, tossing up dust from the rubble. The Seeker planted her hand firmly on Cassidy’s shoulder, holding her in place. Cassidy did her best to give Cassandra puppy eyes, but she ended up bursting into laughter. Cassandra let out a scoff, “you’re hopeless.” She let Cassidy up.

“Cassandra,” Cassidy caught hold of her hand before the Seeker could turn away. “No matter what we find there, at Therinfal, I’m here for you.” Cassandra, much to Cassidy’s surprise, held her hand rather tightly. “When you weren’t among us, fleeing Haven, it was torture not knowing. When Cullen told me that you had gone back to face Corypheus, to buy us time, to bury Haven, I felt more lost than I ever have. I prayed for a miracle, and you came back to me.” There was a startling intensity about her expression. “I will not let you go again.”

**Author's Note:**

> “Maker of the world, forgive them! They have lived too long in shadow without Your Light to guide them! Be with Your children now, O Maker!” (Chant of Light, Apotheosis 2:19-2:22)


End file.
